


Police Dog

by surveycorpsjean



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, M/M, Mutual Pining, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-02 15:23:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6571456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surveycorpsjean/pseuds/surveycorpsjean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yahaba takes home a gruff looking, beat up dog. He patches his ear, and wraps his leg, and goes to sleep.</p>
<p>The next morning he wakes up to a hot guy rummaging through his kitchen.</p>
<p>“I took a pair of your shorts.” He says, standing up and away from the fridge. “Hope that’s a’ight with you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here's the project ive been workin on for a few weeks ahasdg
> 
> (i'm so sorry this is so cliche but someones gotta do it man someones gotta do it)

He finds the dog snarling, bloodied, and bruised. Its ear is half chewed off, and it’s favoring its right leg- despite all that, it growls, and barks. It’s probably the angriest dog Yahaba has ever seen, but he can’t really blame it.

Its attackers are group of stupid kids carrying baseball bats and large sticks. They’re laughing- the sick bastards.

Yahaba groans, because really, he was never one to cry at the ASPCA _in the arms of an angel_ commercials, but this is just sad. It’s just a dog- an odd looking dog, but a dog nevertheless.

“Hey.” Yahaba spits, hands in his pockets. This is probably a really stupid thing to do, but whatever. “Stop.”

The kids turn, cigarettes between teeth, dyed hair sticking to their foreheads. One clutches his baseball bat, and another reaches for a knife. The dog is snarling, lips curled behind its teeth, blood dripping across its face.

“Fuck off.” One of the kids spits, and Yahaba blinks, plainly.

“Nah.” Yahaba opens up his coat jacket, and flashes a pretty gun, resting by his badge. “How about you guys fuck off?”

The looks on their faces are absolutely _priceless._ He watches them scatter away, shoes sloshing in mud, fingers shaking. Yahaba shrugs- he just got off duty, so they’re not really his concern- but he turns to the dog.

It’s staring at him, its little dog eyebrows pushed together. It’s shaking, and it looks about ready to pass out. It really is a strange dog- yellow, but for two black stripes that run from the backs of its eyes, down to the tips of its tail. He's fairly large; about the size of a golden retriever. 

Yahaba considers walking away- he’s already done his good deed for the day, but the dog is shaking, and shaking, so much so that Yahaba inches forwards, and drops to balance his weight on his heels. He sighs, and holds out his hand, “Hey there, buddy. I’m Yahaba.”

The dog snarls, and Yahaba pulls his hand back. “Woah, is that any way to thank your savior?”

Surprisingly enough, the dog reacts to that. It looks back and forth, seemingly considering its options, before limping forwards, just a little.

“There we go…” Yahaba reaches out once more, and lets the dog limp to him. It sniffs his hands, eyes staring into his, almost eerily. Yahaba reaches to pet him, but the dog flinches back. Okay, no petting, that’s fine.

“I uh…” Yahaba swallows. He’s talking to a dog, isn’t he? “…I can probably fix that ear of yours. And maybe check out your leg. I’ve had medical training.”

The dog stares, and stares, before taking a final limp forwards.

* * *

 

He’s able to patch the ear with just a few butterfly bandages, thank goodness. He’s not sure if he’s ready to lose a hand trying to stitch it shut.

He wraps the dog’s leg in bandages- he’s surpassingly calm now. He actually seems sleepy, eyelids occasionally drooping, before shooting to glare up at Yahaba.

“It’s just a sprain.” Yahaba tells him, not that the dog would know what that means. The dog doesn’t move, perched up on Yahaba’s couch. Yahaba walks around the kitchen, and digs through his cabinets, looking for some kind of bowl. He calls, “So, do you have a home?”

Of course, there’s no answer, because he’s a fucking dog. Really, Yahaba needs to make some more friends, or get a romantic partner, or something, because he’s been living alone for way too long. He walks back, bowl in hand, full of water. He sits down, and the dog stares as he presses it to his face. “Here you go.”

The dog looks nearly offended, and Yahaba about laughs. “What? What is it?”

The dog sniffs the bowl, unmoving, almost scowling, before he dips his head forwards, and drinks.

“Do you have a name?”

No reply, of course. Duh. Yahaba is concerned for his own mental health.

 The dog continues to drink.

“Well…” Yahaba sighs, “I guess I’ll have to figure out what to do with you tomorrow. It’s already way too late.”

The dog leans his head back, almost glaring at Yahaba, before resting his chin back on his paws.

“You’re not going to chew up any of my stuff while I sleep, are you?” Yahaba asks, rising from the couch. The dog seems to give a snort, almost a laugh, and it scares Yahaba a little bit. He blinks, and then turns on his heel,

“Alrighty then.”

* * *

 

Yahaba comes out of the shower, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth, and a towel at his hips. He’s exhausted, but it’s his day off, at least. He’s got a few errands to run, and then there’s the whole dog problem, but Yahaba tries not to think about it. He pulls on a pair of sweatpants, still brushing his teeth as he walks down the stairs.

He doesn’t expect a grown man to be rummaging around in his kitchen in nothing but a pair of shorts- which look to be Yahaba’s, by the way.

The toothbrush drops out of his mouth, and clatters to the floor.

His body reacts on instinct:

 _The gun is in my bedroom. I can take the stairs two steps at a time-_ but he cuts himself off when the man speaks-

“I took a pair of your shorts.” He says, standing up and away from the fridge. “Hope that’s a’ight with you.”

“Uh…” Yahaba stares, and feels the fight or flight instinct kick in-but his heart slows when he notices the hair; blonde, but for two stripes of black. There are some bandages on his left ear, and gauze wrapped around his right arm.

“Oh, and Kyoutani.”

“W-what?”

“My name.” The man stands, one of Yahaba’s apples in hand, “You asked last night.”

“Ohh.” Yahaba blinks, and rubs his eyes. Right. Okay, well. This isn’t so weird. “Are you a dog shifter?”

“Yeah.” Kyoutani says, leaning up against the countertop. “Met one before?”

“No.” Yahaba reaches down slowly to pick up his toothbrush. He swallows- his mouth still tastes like toothpaste, so he shakily makes his way towards the sink. “I uh…have met a cat shifter though. And an owl. A few crows, too.”

“Hm.” Kyoutani says, and bites into the apple with a loud snap. Yahaba splashes water into his mouth, and spits back out into the sink. He about chokes when he hears, “Thanks. For helping me last night.”

“Oh.” Yahaba rubs at his mouth, “Yeah, uh. Sorry. I kinda’ assumed you were just a normal dog.”

“S’ fine.” Kyoutani says, and bites into the apple once more. Yahaba really should be weirded out by this whole situation more, but he honestly can’t find it in himself. He’s just seen too much weird shit in his life to care.

“Why uh…” Yahaba begins, and stands away from the kitchen sink, “Why didn’t you just shift back last night?”

“Because I didn’t trust you.” Kyoutani says plainly. His injured arm rests at his side, eyes staring forwards. He seems to have this permanent glare on his face, eyebrows pushed together, pupils dilated- but he’s not unattractive either. He is still shirtless after all, and Yahaba is pretty sure he could grind meat on those abs.

Kyoutani smirks, "Plus it was funny watching you talk to a dog."

Yahaba huffs, and avoids his verbal jab, “Oh, and you trust me now?”

“Mm. I walked in and saw you drooling all over your pillow, so I figured you couldn’t be that shitty.”

Yahaba sucks in a deep breath through his teeth, and feels his face warm. He scowls, “Alright, creep. You’re obviously fine, so I think it’s time you leave.”

Kyoutani stares, before he looks around Yahaba’s apartment. It’s not small, but it’s not huge either. It has always suited Yahaba just fine.

He finally bites into the apple once more, and says, “Nah.”

Yahaba blinks, “What do you mean, ‘ _nah’_?!”

“This place is pretty nice.” Kyoutani crosses the room, and back towards the couch.

“Dude. You can’t live here. Go home.”

“Don’t got one.” Kyoutani replies evenly, and pats around for the remote.

“That…that’s not my problem!” Yahaba barks.

Kyoutani looks back at him, and asks, plainly, “If I was just a dog, would you have kept me?”

Yahaba freezes. He blinks, and blinks again. He opens his mouth to answer, but feels his throat go dry at Kyoutani’s smirk. Dammit. He was definitely considering the idea of keeping the dog.

Kyoutani turns back around and shrugs, “Then there you go.”

And that’s pretty much how Yahaba gained a new roommate.

* * *

 At first Yahaba is a little salty, to say the least- but Kyoutani grows on him. His attitude could use some serious adjustment, and he has a couple habits that Yahaba would personally love to break, but he's fine nonetheless. 

When Yahaba comes home from work a few days later, he’s pleasantly met by a dog sleeping on his couch.

It’s not like Yahaba had been unhappy before- he was fine with his job, and his few friends.

But it’s almost like a space has been filled that he didn’t even know _needed_ filling. He comes home, and sees Kyoutani curled up, fluffy, and soft, Yahaba can’t help but smile.

He resists the urge to reach over and pet him. He still remembers that snarling dog, sharp teeth bared, eyes dangerous. He’s actually incredibly dangerous, the more Yahaba thinks about it, but…he’s surprisingly docile, probably out of gratefulness. 

Everything in the house seems to be in tact- nothing has been chewed, or moved out of place, so Yahaba shrugs, and lets the guy sleep.

A pet? A roommate? Whatever, same thing. Both are pretty cute, anyways.

* * *

 

“Hey!” Yahaba calls, kicking the door shut with his foot, “I’m home!”

His hands are full of groceries, and he shuffles towards the kitchen- which looks…surprisingly cleaner than usual.

“Kyoutani?”

A head pops up around the corner- he’s in his own clothes now, for they finally went shopping the other day. That whole ordeal was…interesting, to say the least.

“What’ya get?”

“Chinese.” Yahaba says, “I was in the mood.”

“Hm.” Kyoutani begins to unpack the bags for him, surprisingly helpful.

“Did you...” Yahaba looks around his apartment, bewildered, “…did you clean?”

Kyoutani nods, silently, and paws through the bags.

“You…huh.” Yahaba blinks, “You didn’t have to do that. Thanks.”

“Well, you did save my life last week.” Kyoutani shrugs.

“Yeah, about that.” Yahaba grabs his out takeout box, “I have a few questions.”

“Hm?”

“I’ve been thinking...” Yahaba sits down, and Kyoutani follows, “I could see a normal dog struggling against three people, but now that I know that you’re a shifter… I seriously don’t believe that you couldn’t’ve taken on those kids.”

Kyoutani pauses, his fork halfway to his mouth. He blinks, and shrugs, “I dunno.”

“You’re a dog shifter.” Yahaba places his head in one hand, “You’re super powerful. You could have dropped those teenagers like flies.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I wanted to.” Kyoutani rubs his nose, and takes a bite. “They were just kids.”

“Hm.” Yahaba blinks, “You’re a nice guy, Kyoutani.”

The other pauses for a moment, before he shrugs, and digs into his food. “Not really.”

* * *

 Kyoutani flinches alot. It's almost concerning; seeing such a strong, stoic person move back a little whenever Yahaba raises his hand, or brushes his shoulder. 

But Yahaba is completely ignorant to his upbringing. He doesn't even know if he's  _used_ to physical contact.  So Yahaba is fine with that; he keeps it to a minimum- he tries to avoid brushing their fingers together when passing the salt, and he keeps his distance when on the couch. 

But one day, in passing, Kyoutani brushes his shoulder against Yahaba's- almost on purpose. 

And the taller smiles. 

* * *

 

Yahaba waddles into his room, dripping wet, a towel wrapped around his hips. He sees a dog, curled up on his bed, watching the T.V. that he had left on.

Yahaba jumps and about drops the towel. He snaps, “Kyoutani!”

The dog looks to him, raising one of his little dog eyebrows.

“Why are you in my room? Out!” He calls, and tightens his grip on the towel. “Also, if you shifted in your clothes again, I swear. I’m going to make you go out and actually get a job to pay for new ones.”

And for the first time, Yahaba sees Kyoutani shift. It’s more…magical, and less horrifying like Yahaba had imagined. His body turns into a little tuft of light, before remolding into the firm body of Kyoutani- of course, stark naked.

“God.” Yahaba covers his eyes with his free hand, “Did you really have to do that here?”

“You’re acting like I haven’t seen you naked.” Kyoutani replies in a flat voice, and digs through their now shared drawers for his boxer briefs.

“What?” Yahaba squeaks, “You have _not._ ”

“S’ not a big deal.” Kyoutani shrugs, “You’re not ugly.”

Yahaba is pretty sure that his blush has reached his bellybutton at this point, so he snaps towards the door, and yells, “Out! Now!”

* * *

 

“You got a dog?!” Watari laughs, a hand over his mouth.

“A dog _shifter._ ”

“Holy shit.” He snickers into his hand, and turns down the radio of the cop car, “And you haven’t died yet?”

“No?” Yahaba blinks, “He’s kind of an ass, but he’s nice.”

Watari laughs again, slapping his knee, “Holy shit!”

“What? What?” 

“Dude, haven’t you heard about dog shifters?” Watari gasps, “They’re super territorial, and _super_ aggressive. You said he cleaned your house?”

“Ah…yeah?”

“He’s totally devoted to you.” Watari laughs, “And you didn’t even know!”

“Animal shifters are people too.” Yahaba scowls, “Don’t stereotype them like that.”

“Fine, fine.” Watari laughs behind his hand, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you when he gets protective.”

Yahaba rolls his eyes, “He’s a little scary, but he’s a nice guy. Don’t badmouth him.”

Watari opens his mouth to reply, but they’re cut off by the police scanner.

* * *

 

His bones ache, and his feet are sore. It was…an interesting day. Yahaba prefers not to think about it- so he turns on the T.V., and draws his knees to his chest.

Some Disney movie is on; he’s not really paying attention. He just keeps phasing in and out of consciousness, eyes focusing on various things on the wall.

At some point the front door opens, and then locks shut.

It brings Yahaba back to the real world- he yawns, and looks over his shoulder, “Kyoutani?”

The shifter gives a little noise of acknowledgement, and Yahaba relaxes back into the couch. He can hear him shuffling about in the kitchen. He waits, before he asks, “Where were you?”

There’s a pause, and then, “Job interview.”

Yahaba blinks, and watches him round the couch to sit next to him, a bag of cold cut turkey in his hand.

“You….” Yahaba blinks, “…you’re…” He had only been joking when he said that thing about making him get a job, but apparently he had taken it seriously.

“I’m looking, anyways.” Kyoutani says bluntly, and looks at him out of the corner of his eye.  Yahaba stares- they’re very nice eyes. They’re so sharp, and when they fall on him, Yahaba feels…respected. It’s odd, but he likes it. He looks down and across his neck, illuminated by nothing but the T.V. It’s very strong, supported by wide shoulders, and a swooping back. He could probably kick Yahaba’s ass, if he wanted- and Yahaba is a bit disgusted by the warmth that settles in his stomach, with that thought.

He tears his gaze away with a smile, “Ah, that’s really good then. I’m proud of you.”

Yahaba doesn’t see it, but Kyoutani perks up, eyes blinking rapidly- a telltale sign of his happiness.

Yahaba settles into the couch. He tucks his feet beneath himself, and sighs.  

The shifter mumbles, “So um…what are you watching?”

“Cinderella.” Yahaba answers, “It’s the new one.”

“Never heard of it.”

“What?” Yahaba blinks, “It’s like, a classic.”

“Haven’t seen a lot of movies.” Kyoutani says plainly, almost embarrassed.

“Oh…” Yahaba blinks. They’re closer on the couch now- Yahaba can feel his body heat. “Kyoutani, where are you from?”

He’s surprised to get an answer at all; Kyoutani doesn’t talk a lot about himself. Actually, he doesn’t talk much at all. He just kinda’ naps around his house, and disappears for hours on end. So Yahaba blinks when Kyoutani says, “The country.”

“Well…that makes sense, then.” Yahaba smiles, “Why did you come to the city?”

Kyoutani tenses a little, and turns back to the T.V., sharp eyes drinking in the beautiful colors on screen. He pauses, before he says, “Ran away.”

And that’s all Yahaba needs to know, really. So he shuffles a little closer to the body heat, and lets himself fall asleep, head lolling from the back of the couch, and onto Kyoutani’s shoulder.

Kyoutani doesn't flinch.

* * *

 

Yahaba is giggling. He can’t remember the last time he’s laughed so hard- it feels really good, actually.

He bought it as a joke, but Kyoutani’s face has made it _totally_ worth it.

He squeezes the squeaky toy, and watches Kyoutani visibly flinch. He growls, “Are you serious?”

Yahaba laughs, and squeaks the toy once more, “What? You’re a dog, right?”

“You’re an asshole.” Kyoutani says, but there’s a ghost of a smile on his face.

“Can you fetch?” Yahaba laughs, and tosses the toy up, and catches it again. “Should we go to the park?”

Surprisingly enough, Kyoutani actually perks up at the word _park._ Yahaba blinks, and squeezes the toy once more. He tips his head, “Do you actually want to go?”

Kyoutani stares at the wall, occasionally flinching every time Yahaba squeezes the toy. He flinches once more, and then snaps, “Can you fuckin’ stop?”

 _Oh. Right._ Yahaba thinks, and drops the toy,   _He’s used to the country._

So Yahaba grins, and swipes his keys up off the counter. “Come on, let’s go now.”

“Now?”

“Yeah.” Yahaba turns. He hears a shift- like clothes ruffling, and then he hears the pitter patter of paws. He hides his smile behind his hand, and holds open the door for Kyoutani.

Yahaba learns that Kyoutani really likes sticking his head out the window, and he especially loves running around on grass. He’s acting more like a dog, and less like a beast.

Yahaba draws his knees to his chest, and watches him roll around in the dirt. Yahaba smiles, “You know, you’re definitely going to need a bath before you come in my apartment. I might have to hose you off." 

Kyoutani looks up at him, dark eyes narrowed. Yahaba laughs, shoulders shaking, and rests his chin on his forearms. The dog goes back to rolling around, legs wiggling, nose digging into the dirt.

A little girl comes running away from her mother, and Kyoutani visibly tenses as she yells, “Puppy!”

Yahaba freezes- he’s not sure how Kyoutani is going to react to children. The mother runs after her, but the child reaches forwards, still yelling, “Puppy!”

“Uh…” Yahaba freezes, and thinks _should I stop her? –_ because he doesn’t really feel like seeing a little girl lose her hand today.

“Can I pet your puppy?” The girl turns and asks, even as the mother reaches them.

Yahaba blinks, and looks at Kyoutani.

_My puppy._

Kyoutani isn’t growling, so Yahaba nods, “Okay, sure.”

The little girl reaches forwards- she rubs her small hands up and around Kyoutani’s head. He closes his little dog eyes, and wags his tail- and Yahaba hides his smile behind his hand.

“Thank you.” The mother nods, “She loves dogs.”

“No problem.” Yahaba says. “I love them too.”

Kyoutani’s ears perk up, and his tail wags just a little more.

* * *

 

Kyoutani sleeps on the couch. That has been an established rule since day one. Kyoutani hasn’t complained, and Yahaba hasn’t either.

But Yahaba notices some things; sometimes, when he wakes up in the middle of the night, there will be a dog curled up in the corner of his bedroom. Yahaba is more concerned than uncomfortable. Is the couch itchy? Does the noise of the kitchen keep him up? Is it too cold?

Yahaba isn’t quite sure how to ask.

Their relationship is still…strange. They’re very civil- sometimes they poke and snap at each other, but usually conversations are kept to a minimum, only because Kyoutani isn’t the talkative type. It’s fine. Yahaba has actually grown to enjoy the company of another in his apartment.

So he’s distraught. The floor can’t be better than the couch, can it?

So one night, when Yahaba wakes up from a particularly gruesome dream, he sits up, and looks for that dog in the corner of his room. Sure enough, Kyoutani is there, curled up, fast asleep.

He swallows, and summons the courage to whisper, “Hey.” Kyoutani doesn’t move, so Yahaba tries again, “Kyoutani?”

The dog’s ears twitch, and he peeks open an eye, his head lifting to look up at Yahaba. He stares down at him, the blankets pooling at his waist, and Yahaba sighs. “Um…if you stay as a dog, you can sleep up here.”

For a moment, Yahaba thinks he might’ve seen a tail wag against the floor. Kyoutani stares for a moment, before rising to jump up on the bed. Yahaba pulls the sheets back up to his chin, and feels Kyoutani plop around, until settling by his feet.

This should feel strange; technically speaking, he is sharing a bed with a grown man- but Yahaba feels comfort more than unease. He drifts back to sleep easily, and has no more nightmares.

* * *

 

He comes home from work with a heavy heart. His job isn’t easy- it’s never been easy to begin with.

He just feels like a failure. He couldn’t catch the man they’re after- all he got were bruises from the scuffle.

He closes the door, and toes off his shoes. He leans his back against the door, and lets his head thump back with a sigh. _At least nobody was seriously injured._

He closes his eyes- but opens them immediately-

There’s a hand at his cheek, and dangerous, fire-lit eyes in front of him. Yahaba opens his mouth to yell, but that hand sweeps down and around the bruise on his cheek. His fingers are warm, and long, and they feel strong against his face. Yahaba thinks that they might have the power to kill- but Kyoutani is completely silent, eyes dropping down to the hand shaped bruises around his neck.

“Uhh...”

Kyoutani’s body is horribly tense- he swipes his thumb down and across the bruise, and Yahaba forgets to breathe.

He swallows, and forces a shaky laugh, “Ah, Kyoutani. You scared me.”

“Who did this?” Kyotuani’s voice is dark.

“Er…just some stupid kid.” Yahaba says, and tries to tip his head away from Kyoutani’s- they’re close, close enough for Yahaba to see Kyoutani’s pupils dilate.

“On your way home? Did they mug you?”

“No, no.” Yahaba smiles, “Just at work. It’s fine.”

“Work?” Kyoutani pushes his eyebrows together more, if possible. “What is your job?”

“I’m a policeman.” Yahaba says plainly, and tries to step away, “I thought you knew-“

A hand traps him by the door; its connected to a strong, tan arm, that joins to broad shoulders, and a soft neck. Yahaba’s eyes trail across it all, before looking Kyoutani in the eye. “What?”

“That’s a dangerous job.” He states.

“Yeah.” Yahaba agrees, and ducks out and away from his arm. He shrugs off his coat, and walks towards the kitchen, “It’s fine though, I can take care of myself.”

Kyoutani is silent, frozen by the door, until he says, “A different job.”

“What?”

“Find a different job.”

Yahaba blinks, and then scowls, “Are you kidding?’

“It’s too dangerous.”

“That’s selfish of you.” Yahaba states and turns away from him, “You can’t just tell me to quit my job because you don’t like it.”

“I can if it means you fuckin’ come home like this.” Kyoutani snaps, and gestures to the bruise around Yahaba’s wrist.

Yahaba looks down and studies the marks. They vaguely ache, but not badly. He looks up and snaps back, “I _like_ what I do. If you don’t then you can just leave.”

Kyoutani freezes. He stares at the floor, burning holes through the wood. He squeezes his hands into fists, and he says, roughly, “I have to protect you.” His breathing is heavy, and there’s a light flush on his cheeks.

Oh. Well. 

“Protect me?” Yahaba lets out a laugh, and the tension lessons a little, “Kyoutani, you’re not obligated to do anything. You don’t own me.”

“What if I want to?”

All the air leaves Yahaba’s chest.

His blood runs cold; he looks up, shakily, into those narrowed, attractive eyes, and holds his breath. Kyoutani is looking at him- nothing but him.

Yahaba doesn’t ask him to repeat himself, because he heard Kyoutani loud and clear. He takes a moment to think of a response, before he replies, smoothly, “Then keep working at it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, thank you for all the super nice comments and messages

When Kyoutani asks to come with him, Yahaba says yes.

They walk around the grocery store, Yahaba holding a basket with a carton of eggs and some fruit inside. He walks along the vegetable isle, and mentally runs through what he might need. Kyoutani is silent by his side.

He almost feels like…Yahaba’s personal watchdog, if that makes sense. He’s not loud, or boisterous- he just stands at his side, eyes consistently scanning the area around them. They seem to take in everything; the mother consoling her child, the man selecting beer, the couple choosing their bread. He hears the penny that drops out of a lady’s wallet- he smells the pastries that the baker pulls out of the oven.

Kyoutani is quite an impressive person. Yahaba isn’t sure if he completely understands him yet, but they’ve been living together for a long enough time to consider him a friend. Yahaba is learning more and more about him; he knows that he actually likes baths, and he doesn’t really like to sleep alone, and that he especially likes to be scratched behind his head, right at the nape of his neck- as a human, and as a dog. He knows that he loves turkey, but also apples. He knows that he doesn’t like it when people knock on the door really loud, and he knows that he hates high pitched noises.

But there’s this unspoken tension between them; it’s especially strong whenever Kyoutani steps out of the bath, muscles wet, a towel wrapped around his waist. It’s strong when Yahaba cooks, Kyoutani sitting on the counter nearby. It’s strong when they watch movies together, sometimes with a dog in his lap, and sometimes with a man at his shoulder.

The tension is strong now; even as the back of Kyoutani’s hand brushes against his own, passing each other in the small grocery store.

He hasn’t stopped thinking about what Kyoutani said- he’s not sure if he _wants_ to stop.

_You don’t own me._

_What if I want to?_

It’s probably just some dog devotion thing. It’s probably nothing more- and Yahaba is probably a sick person for even _thinking_ that there might be something…more.

A man bumps his shoulder in the isle, and Yahaba about drops his basket. He fumbles with it, and turns up to look at the man, who scowls, and keeps walking. At his side, Kyoutani tenses, and growls deep in his throat. Yahaba rights himself- the man glares at Kyoutani with a disgusted look and scurries away.

Kyoutani balls his fist, but Yahaba laughs. He places a hand on his shoulder- a warm gesture that Kyoutani relaxes into. He is warming up to him, for he flinches less whenever Yahaba touches him. He pats the shifter's shoulder and says, “It was just an accident.”

“Fucker. He coulda’ apologized.”

“It’s fine.” Yahaba says, and digs through to make sure he didn’t break any of the eggs. “Do you want to go pick out the meat?”

Kyoutani straightens his back, and nods, firmly. Yahaba smiles, and says, “Perfect, I’ll meet you up at the front.”

He tries not to think about the cute little determined look on Kyoutani’s face as he walks away.

* * *

 

“Kyoutani, this is Watari.” Yahaba says with a smile. “He’s my partner.”

Kyoutani is perched on the couch, eyes narrowed, looking between Yahaba and Watari.

“Woah!” Watari gasps, “He’s big!”

“He’s a little shorter than me.” Yahaba says, toeing off his shoes.

“Yeah but he’s hella muscly!”

Kyoutani glares, and says nothing.

“Hey.” Yahaba calls, “Aren’t you going to say hi?”

“No.”

“Oh come on.” Yahaba snaps, “Be nice.”

Kyoutani turns his head in a pout, and Yahaba sighs. Watari laughs, and slaps Yahaba on the back, “No worries, I totally understand.”

A deep, low growl rumbles from Kyoutani’s chest, and Watari pulls his hand back, as if burned.

“Kyoutani!” Yahaba hisses.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Watari raises his hands up, “I’m not tryna’ steal your man. He’s my good friend. I help protect him too, you see?” He lifts up his shirt, and shows his gun resting on his hip next to his badge.

Kyoutani stares for a moment, bright eyes, small pupils and all, before he relaxes and turns back to the T.V.

Yahaba chooses to ignore Watari’s word choice of _‘his man’,_ and instead focuses on how docile Kyoutani is now. His rigid, tense shoulders are relaxed, and he has a knee pulled up to his chest, eyes looking at the T.V.

“Huh.” Yahaba says out loud, and looks to Watari’s smug face, “You seem to know more about all this than I do.”

“I have a little experience.” Watari shrugs with a smile. He sits on the barstool, slightly swaying back and forth, watching as Yahaba goes to find some beer.

“Really?” Yahaba asks, digging through the fridge. “With who?”

“You know Sergeant Oikawa’s police dog?”

Yahaba about drops the fucking beer. It fumbles across his fingers, and attracts Kyoutani’s attention as he yelps. He grabs the bottle tight, and looks up at Watari with a gasp, “No way…”

Watari laughs, loud, and slams his hand on the counter top, “Yep! Iwaizumi is a very attractive man.”

“Oh my god…” Yahabai presses a hand to his forehead, “The German Sheppard? Iwa? He’s..he’s…”

“Yep!” Watari snickers, “When Oikawa and Iwaizumi started dating, Iwa got so protective, that the only way they could come to an agreement was if Iwaizumi got to come to work with him.”

Yahaba doesn’t see Kyoutani perk up, back straightening like a board.

“Fuck.” Yahaba hands the beer to Watari, “Fuck, I think I gave him a dog treat. I think I gave him _multiple_ dog treats.”

“Don’t worry about it. From what I know, Iwaizumi likes you.”

“Well that’s good.” Yahaba sighs, and takes a sip of his beer. “Fuck. _Fuck._ I’m so embarrassed.”

Watari laughs and laughs. He wipes away a tear, and says, “Well, maybe you can talk to the Sergeant. He can probably give you some advice.”

“Hm…” Yahaba chews on the inside of his cheek. He looks to Kyoutani, who is seemingly not paying attention at all.

He thinks for a moment:  _I wonder if he’d get along with Iwaizumi. Probably not, right?_

* * *

 

“Is this okay?” Yahaba asks, rubbing his fingers behind Kyoutani’s soft ears. The dog gives a gruff little bark, and Yahaba laughs, scratching down his neck. The dog rests his head in Yahaba’s lap, eyes closed, tail lightly tapping against the couch cushions.

“Hmm.” Yahaba rubs down to his ear, and looks at the wound that healed long ago. “It’s always so interesting to come home. I never know if I’ll see an attractive man, or a cute dog.”

Gold eyes snap open, and look to him, before turning his head, and nuzzling into Yahaba’s thighs. The taller laughs, and pulls a little on the fur behind his neck, “Ha- nice try.”

Kyoutani shuffles a little closer, and rests his head back down again. Yahaba strokes from the top of his head, down his neck, and over his back. He’s very soft, but feels strong underneath his hands. He looks tired- he must be, for his new job seems physically demanding.

He came home last week announcing that he got a job working on a construction site. At first Yahaba was concerned- there’s some scary people in such a business- but Yahaba figured if anyone could do it, it would be Kyoutani. Yahaha still doesn’t know the extent of Kyoutani’s physical strength, and he’s not sure if he wants to find out.

A few times he’s woken up in his bed, despite falling asleep on the couch, so he can only assume that the muscles aren’t just for show.

He scratches right beneath his ear, and watches Kyoutani doze off to sleep- Yahaba does too, eyelids drooping, the warm head in his lap lulling him.

He wakes to the sound of birds- its spring now, and they clearly don’t understand the concept of sleeping in on a Saturday. The warmth in his lap is still there; except, there is a much larger dog in its place- actually, not a dog at all. Kyoutani’s now human nose is buried into his thighs, his left arm wrapped around both of Yahaba’ legs, and buried beneath his knee.

Yahaba sucks in a breath, but forces himself still. He’s without clothes of course, but he’s lying on his stomach- thank goodness. Yahaba’s not quite sure how he’d be able to handle this situation, if not.

Still, he swallows, and looks down at the body beneath him. His skin is so smooth and tan. There’s not one blemish on his back; it’s all vast plains of warm skin. Yahaba looks down and around the cleft of his ass- it’s so nicely shaped, and he really wants to squeeze it…just a little. His thighs are strong, and smooth, and his calves are perfect- even his toes are cute. He looks so innocent, the wrinkles between his brows now gone.

Kyoutani sucks in a breath, and nuzzles further into Yahaba’s thighs- the latter isn’t sure if he’s doing this on purpose or not, and he has no idea how Kyoutani will react when he wakes up.

Still, Yahaba continues to have the self control of a squirrel; he just can’t resist. He reaches down, and smooths his hand through that odd hair of his. He traces his fingers across the black stripes. He falls to the nape of his neck, and plays with the small hairs there. Yahaba has no idea what he’s doing.

Well, maybe he does.

Yahaba can tell you the exact moment that Kyoutani wakes up; his body completely tenses. It starts at his neck, and moves all the way down to his toes. Yahaba watches his back muscles tighten, and his eyes snap open. 

_He’s so tense all the time…it must be exhausting._

“Hey sleepyhead.” Yahaba tugs on his ear a little, “You shifted in your sleep, you ding dong.”

Kyoutani swallows, and for a moment, Yahaba thinks he might be blushing. The shifter props himself up, and pulls his face out of Yahaba’s thighs. He sits up straight, and rubs at his eyes. Yahaba tears his eyes away in an attempt to exercise self-control. He stands, saying, “Do you want breakfast?”

Kyoutani swallows, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He waits a moment, and then nods.

“Cool.” Yahaba replies, “Pancakes? Bacon? Waffles?”

“Bacon.” Kyoutani states gruffly, rising from the couch. “Also waffles.”

“Alright.” Yahaba says, and digs through his kitchen, “Go take a shower. It’ll be done by then.”

He finds the wafflemaker, and heaves it onto the countertop. He pauses, and then quirks an eyebrow- for Kyoutani still hasn’t moved.

“What?” Yahaba props his hand on his hip, “Do I need to bathe you myself?”

He really should not have said that.

Kyoutani is growing more and more daring every day- for he smirks, and says, “I wouldn’t complain.”

Yahaba sputters for a moment, before he waves him off, saying, “Go get clean, I can smell you from here.”

He doesn’t actually smell at all- Yahaba just wants his naked, nicely shaped ass out of view before he actually pops a boner like a fifteen-year-old.

Kyoutani grumbles, stomping up the stairs, but does what he says, nevertheless.

* * *

 

Yahaba is almost home when he hears shouting.

“Hey!”

He turns, raising an eyebrow at the teenagers standing in the alley. They think they’re so cool, with their _Nirvana_ shirts, and their electric cigarettes. He crosses his arms, frowning.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah.” The kid spits on the ground, and Yahaba is horribly unimpressed at their attempt of intimidation. “Give us your wallet.”

“Pfft.” Yahaba snorts, “Seriously?”

“You think this is a joke, dude?” Another kid pulls out a pocket knife.

 Yahaba blinks; he didn’t work today, and left his gun at home, but he’s surprisingly calm. He can actually see his house from here on the street. He laughs, “Yeah, this is real funny.” Yahaba doesn’t dare turn his back to them, but he does pull his hands to his sides, “Fuck off.”

The kid with the knife steps forwards, as do his buddies. He growls, “You have _one_ more chance, old guy. Give us your wallet, _and_ your shoes.”

“Old guy?” Yahaba blinks, “How rude.” _I’m like, twenty-six. That’s not that old._

The knife guy swipes forwards- a bold move, but he obviously doesn’t know how to use it. Yahaba ducks  his head, and reaches forwards to dig his thumb into the pressure point in the kid’s arm. He lets out a yelp and drops the knife- his friends run forwards.

And maybe…maybe Yahaba should have thought this out better, but oh well.

A tall guy lets out a cry, raising his fist and moving to punch forwards. Yahaba dodges it, barely, but catches a punch from the third kid, who has been silent up until now. He lets out a grunt, a hand flying to his cheek, before he takes a step back. Fuck, that hurt.

His friend yells, “Dude! The knife!”

A kid scrambles for the knife, but Yahaba kicks it out of his hand, hard enough to hurt, but not enough to break his arm.

A hand shoots for his arm, but he yanks out of the grip, and tightens his fist to punch back.

“Fuck!”

“Grab him!”

He considers running; he thinks maybe he can book it to the house and lock the door- but then again, he doesn’t want these assholes to know where he lives. He’s not one to run from a fight anyways. Yahaba stumbles backwards, and takes a defensive position.

The tall one drops like a rock.

There’s a strong figure with his arm still in the air, sharp eyes narrowed, body language tense. Yahaba stares, jaw slightly open, and drops his fists to his sides.

Kyoutani looks _fucking pissed._ Anger is radiating off of him in thick, intimidating waves. It’s almost a turn on.

“Hey, fuck off!” His friend yells.

“No.” Kyoutani hisses, and grabs the guy by the arm. He flings him up against the wall, and grips his wrist so hard that the knife clatters to the floor once more. His voice is deep and gravely, “How about _you_ fuck off.”

Yahaba almost laughs at the irony of it all; Kyoutani repeating that exact phrase that Yahaba had said months ago.

The tall guy is out cold; he isn’t dead, but Kyoutani sure did punch him into the next dimension. Yahaba has half a mind to think about how hot that actually is, but he forces himself to focus on the subject at hand. He calls, “Kyoutani.”

The shorter looks to him, eyes ablaze. He doesn’t stare for long- the third friend finally grows a pair, and tries to help his buddy, but Kyoutani grips him by his outstretched elbow and twists, forcing the guy to kneel. The guy screeches, and after a moment, Kyoutani drops his hold. 

Yahaba sighs, and finally turns, “Kyoutani, lets go.”

“But-“

“Now.” He looks to the three; they’re shaking. “I want to go home.”

Kyoutani relaxes, but still glares at them as he walks away. The idiots scurry to their feet, helping their unconscious friend, and booking it down the street.

Yahaba sighs, and rubs his forehead.

_Why me?_

This is just his strange, oddly twisted life. He’d have to come to terms with that.

They walk in silence, Yahaba taking in deep breaths to slow the adrenaline. He raises a hand to his face, and huffs out a laugh, “Well, isn’t this ironic.”

“Hm?” Kyoutani digs into his pocket for his copy of the house key.

“I guess we’re even now, huh?” Yahaba laughs.

Kyoutani pauses, his key halfway towards the door. He blinks once, and then shrugs, “Whatever.”

“What do you mean mean, ‘whatever?” Yahaba smiles, “You’re so boring. You kick some serious ass, and that's all you have to say?  _‘Whatever.’_ ”

Kyoutani sputters, and opens the door, “Well, it’s not like you have the most interesting personality. No wonder those assholes attacked ya.”

“Hey!” Yahaba laughs, and punches his arm lightly, “Don’t save me, and then insult me like that. You’re sending mixed signals. ”

“You insulted me first!”

Yahaba fakes an innocent look, and laughs, stepping into the house. “Mmm, well, thanks for helping me. You looked pretty scary.”

Kyoutani locks the door behind them, and pauses. He blinks, and raises a hand to his nose, rubbing it sheepishly. “Whatever.”

Yahaba laughs, and goes to the fridge to find an ice pack. “How did you know that I was in trouble anyways? Where you watching me?”

“N-no!” He growls, “I heard your pathetic scream.”

“Pathetic!” Yahaba reaches into the freezer, “I did not _scream._ ” Actually, he didn’t. Once again, Yahaba is impressed by Kyoutani’s superhuman abilities. He must've heard that one little grunt he let out when the kid punched him.

“Pff.” Kyoutani flirts, and Yahaba grins, tempted to take off his shoe and throw it at him. Instead he pulls out an icepack and puts it up against his own cheek. Kyoutani stares. His eyes are shaped in that permanent glare; they look over the bruise on Yahaba’s cheek. The taller looks away, staring at a spot on the floor. His face hurts a little, but not bad. Kyoutani is still silent by the door, until he mutters, “Sorry.”

“Huh?”

“Your face.” Kyoutani says gruffly, “I…didn’t get there fast enough.”

“Oh.” Yahaba blinks, and pulls the ice pack away, “It’s alright. I can take a hit.”

Kyoutani looks up through his eyelashes, and Yahaba can’t help but admire them. His eyes really are pretty. Kyoutani starts, “But-“

“I’m not a fragile little snowflake.” Yahaba hops up on the counter, feet dangling off the edge. “I might have a bit of a princess syndrome, but I’m not made of glass, you know.”

Kyoutani stares, and stares, almost uncomfortably so, before he seems to smirk. “Hm.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Kyoutani says, and moves to go upstairs, “I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Mkay.” Yahaba says, and watches him glide up the stairs. He’s almost tempted to join him.

But he stays put, and ices his bruise, as well as the flush on his cheeks.

Dammit.

* * *

 

He’s not sure when he stopped sleeping next to a dog, and started sleeping next to a man.

Everything is just so blurred together; Yahaba has gone from a warm, soft body at his feet, to a strong, even warmer body at his back.

Yahaba isn’t complaining.

Actually, far from it.

He thinks he might actually like the guy. He’s attractive, strong, hardworking, determined. He’s surprisingly kind, and gentle, but rough when he needs to be. He’s a decent person.

Yahaba won't lie to himself; he knows when he likes someone.

He thinks…maybe Kyoutani might like him back- but he can’t be sure. He has no idea how this whole thing works. Kyoutani hasn’t blatantly said it out loud, but it’s obvious that he’s protective over Yahaba. It’s in his body language- in his growls, and his unsaid words.

But it could be totally platonic. Yahaba could be a big ol’ creep that’s taking advantage of a dog shifter’s feelings.

He doesn’t even know if he’s gay. For all Yahaba knows, he could disappear for hours on end to see some girl.

 _Dammit._ Yahaba thinks, and twists in bed. He turns a little, now facing the body at his back. He can see the lumps of his spine that crawl down to the curve of his ass, disappearing into black boxer briefs. Yahaba really wants to reach out and press his face in the back of his neck, and trail his hands over all that muscle.

So he sighs, and figures its time he finally calls up the sergeant tomorrow.

* * *

 

_“No way, really?”_

Yahaba hums a reply, and continues cooking, the phone pressed firmly between his shoulder and his ear. Kyoutani has finally left for work, and is far from earshot, miles away at his job.

_“I had no idea! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”_

“Um…” Yahaba flushes, “I was kind of…nervous.”

 _“Do you…”_ Oikawa begins, _“Do you like him?!”_

Yahaba sucks in a deep breath, and there’s laughter on the other end of the phone. He snaps, “S-shut up!”

_“Ah, wow. So adorable. My little Yahaba all grown up~.”_

“I just…” Yahaba sighs, finally taking his free hand to hold the phone, and stirring vegetables with his left, “I just don’t really know what I’m doing. Actually, I literally have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve googled everything there is to know about shifters but…”

 _“Well, first things first, he probably likes you_.” Oikawa says, plainly.

“But like…” Yahaba sighs, “I don’t want it to be because I rescued him all those months ago, you know? Like, if that’s the only reason…I don’t want it.”

 _“Hm.”_ Oikawa breathes out, _“Well, these doggies are loyal little things, so if he didn’t give two shits about you, he probably would have found a way to repay the debt and hightail it out of there.”_

Yahaba stops stirring, and thinks for a moment. “Oh.”

_“Does he follow you to the grocery store?”_

“Yeah.”

_“Does he snap at visitors?”_

“…yeah.”

_“Does he sneak into your room? Does he try to sleep in your bed?”_

Yahaba blanches, and about flips over his pan of sizzling vegetables. He gasps, “How do you know about that?!”

There’s a familiar laugh through the phone, and he says, _“Iwa did the same thing with me~ ahaha. I was like, why do you keep sleeping in my room? And he said that he sleeps better when he’s closer to me.”_

“Oh.” Yahaba blinks, “He never said anything about that. Kyoutani isn’t one to talk about his feelings.”  

_“Ahh. What does he think about your job?”_

“He hates it.” Yahaba says honestly, “He gets really upset every time I go to work, and even more upset if I come home hurt. I think he gets really anxious while I’m gone. I see his nail beds all chewed up sometimes.”

 _“Hmm, I figured. Well-“_ Suddenly theres shouting on the other end of the line, and Oikawa gasps, “ _Oh! Gotta go. See you on Monday?”_

“Yeah.” Yahaba nods.

_“Good luck!”_

“You too.”

* * *

 

Yahaba has to go to the gym regularly to stay in shape. It’s just a part of the job; he prefers to feel at the top of his game to protect himself, and others. A few weeks ago, Kyoutani gruffly asked if he could come with him, and Yahaba was stupid enough to say yes.

Honestly, it was the biggest mistake of Yahaba’s life.

There’s no fucking way in hell he can concentrate now.

He’s seen Kyoutani pattering around his house naked plenty of times. He’s seen the shape of his ass, and the curve of his thighs, and the muscles born to his stomach.

But Yahaba was horribly, _horribly_ unprepared to see those muscles in use.

He runs on the treadmill, hardly paying attention to his own feet. All he can see is Kyoutani across the gym, lifting weights like he was born to do it. His muscles are shaped by the _gods-_ firm, but not bulging. His thighs are spread, just barely, and Yahaba wants to stick his head between them and feel Kyoutani crush his skull.

 _Fuck._ Yahaba almost trips again, and tears his head away. He looks down at the mileage on the treadmill, and focuses on the numbers slowly rising. He focuses on his breathing, and the movement beneath his feet.

But his damn horny ass brain can’t stop looking over at Kyoutani. He glances out of the corner of his eye, and watches him do more reps.

 _Why did he take of his shirt?_  Yahaba swallows, hard, and grips the bar in front of him. _Why oh why, gods in heaven, did he do that? I’m a good person. I help old ladies cross the street. I rescue cats out of trees._

He can literally feel himself getting hard, and it’s beyond frustrating. He has to slow down his run, as to not rub his dick raw against the waistband of his gym shorts.

He doesn’t see Kyoutani perk up across the room, and stare.

* * *

 

Yahaba stands in the shower, forehead pressed against the cool tile wall. The spray coats his back. Water drips down his spine, across his thighs, and down between his legs.

He squeezes his eyes shut, water droplets clinging to his hair, and he swallows down a gasp. He presses a hand between his thighs, and squeezes his cock at his base. He hasn’t been this hard in months, and he’s a little bit disgusted that he’s about to jerk off in the shower but…

Damn Kyoutani. Damn Kyoutani and his gruff voice and his nice muscles and his pretty eyes. Damn him and his adorable protectiveness, and his loyal devotion.

He slides his hand up his cock, smoothly, water being the only lubricant to lessen the friction. He curls his fingers up, and around, before sliding back down again. He forces his breathing still as he increases the pace, fingers working around himself like they have before.

This is really stupid. Kyoutani is home, and will probably hear any noise he makes- but Yahaba can’t help it. He was hard the rest of his workout, as well as the car ride. It took everything he had to choke out _I’m taking a shower first-_ and book it upstairs. 

The water sprays against him, thrumming consistently. Yahaba pants, the steam rising with his breath. It feels good, but he needs _more._ More what? Yahaba doesn’t know.

He works himself in his hand, knees already growing weak, and he makes a mistake.

He imagines Kyoutani.

Why? Yahaba is a huge pervert, but he does it anyways- he imagines rough callused hands sliding up and around his cock. He imagines sharp teeth at his neck, and nails down his back. The picture paints itself across Yahaba's mind, and a rough, raspy moan is stolen out of his throat. It echoes around the bathroom, bouncing off the walls. Yahaba gasps, and fucks into his hand, hips moving without his permission. His toes are curling and his legs feel like jelly.

He imagines hands at his neck- hands down his back- hands around his ass-

Yahaba groans again, head tipping back. He bites down on his bottom lip and forces himself quiet. The attempt is all in vain, and Yahaba pants out a hushed moan.

He imagines a head between his thighs- he imagines muscles holding him up strong-

The shower curtain is ripped open.

Yahaba yelps, and nearly slips, both hands flying up to support himself against the shower wall.

Kyoutani is standing at the edge of the shower, hands balled up into fists, nearly seething. His face is red, and Yahaba can see his bare chest rising and falling.

Yahaba chokes out, horrified, “Kyoutani!” He tries to hide himself with his left hand, but it’s nearly impossible- he’s hard and dripping and possibly seconds away from coming his brains out. “ _What the hell-_ “

“Don’t give me that.” Kyoutani snaps, voice totally wrecked and impossibly hot. Yahaba swallows, and watches him shuck off his sweatpants, underwear coming with them.

“Get out!”

“As if.” Kyoutani hisses, stepping into the shower, and throwing the curtain shut. Yahaba stumbles as far back as he can into the corner. The shifter growls, “How the hell am I supposed to just sit there when you’re fuckin’ moaning so damn loud the whole neighborhood can hear you.”

Yahaba snaps, “I was _not-_ “

“Oh, yes you were.” Kyotuani’s voice is low. So, so low. Like, the fifth circle of hell low, and it’s not helping Yahaba’s erection any. He can’t help but look down, and see that Kyoutani is hard too, flushed against his hip. “Don’t you remember?” He taps up at his head, and Yahaba’s eyes shoot back upwards. Kyoutani points to his ear, and says, “Hearing?”

Yahaba pants, “Right, sorry, well-“

“And I could _smell_ you.” Kyoutani steps forwards, a knee sliding between Yahaba’s thighs. His back meets the cold tile and Yahaba jumps, cock sliding against Kyoutani’s thigh. He lets out a groan, head falling back, but his eyes don’t leave Kyoutani’s.

“What-“

“In the gym.” Kyoutani clarifies, head dipping down and pressing where Yahaba’s neck meets his shoulder. He speaks against his damp skin, “Your scent was everywhere. I could practically _feel_ how hard you were.”

“T-that’s mildly embarrassing.”

“Hm.” Kyoutani inhales, his nose pressing up and into Yahaba’s wet hair. “Did you even notice?”

Kyoutani’s thigh slides upwards, and Yahaba’s eyes about roll back in his head. He’s not sure what the hell is happening, but he’s definitely not going to stop it. He gasps out, “Notice what?”

“There were other shifters there.” Kyoutani growls, “They were eyeing you like a fuckin’ meal.”

Yahaba shivers at the gruffness of his voice, and moves his hands up and into Kyoutani’s hair. He slides his nails against his scalp, and is pleasantly surprised by the tremble he receives.

“Sorry.” Yahaba says, finally gaining his confidence back, “I just couldn’t stop looking at you.”

Kyoutani stares, dumbfounded, before he surges forwards, mouth finally shooting up to claim Yahaba’s. If he was expecting an easy victory, then he’s greatly mistaken, because Yahaba fights back. He clings to his hair and kisses him hard and deep like he’s wanted to.

Kyoutani is rough and soft, strong and gentle, all the same. Sharp teeth nip his bottom lip, but a smooth tongue licks over it, soothing the wound. Yahaba hums, and can’t ignore the feeling in his chest. It swells, and swells, because _finally._ Finally, this is happening. His lips slide against Kyoutani’s in an open mouthed kiss, head lightly bobbing with every part and gasp.

He didn’t expect it all to happen like this; he expected awkward confessions and first dates-

But they already knew. They knew each other’s feelings- like it was some unspoken word.

Kyoutani’s hands bruise into Yahaba’s hips, and it feels so good. It’s what Yahaba wants- he wants bruises and marks and he wants all that raw strength to be used on him.

He wants to be _his._

Tongues press pass teeth; it’s sloppy, and wet, the shower still hissing behind them, but it sends electric shocks straight down his spine, and between his legs. Saliva drools past his lips, but its swept away by the gentle spray of the shower. Kyoutani must feel him fucking throbbing up a storm down there, because he grinds his legs upwards, and has to hold Yahaba up when his knees give out.

“ _Fuck._ ” Yahaba groans, “I’m sorry, I was already-“

“S’ fine.” Kyoutani says against his lips. He moves his head back a little, and looks down between them. Yahaba grinds his hips against Kyoutani’s thigh, and this time its _Kyoutani_ that lets out a little groan.

“I was thinking of you.” Yahaba states plainly.

Kyoutani freezes.

His eyes shoot upwards, fire blazing behind his irises. Yahaba continues, sultry hands sliding down and around his face, "I thought of your hands, and your voice-" he trails his thumbs againt Kyoutani's cheek, "-and your eyes."

Kyoutani sucks in a breath, before he shoots forwards, a hand diving between their bodies to drag his thumb up and around Yahaba’s cock. The taller keens, fingernails digging into Kyoutani’s back. Lightning shoots down his spine, and Yahaba gasps, hips moving forwards.

Yahaba really hopes this is real.

“Just me.” Kyoutani says into his neck, his hand now moving steadily between them.

“What?”

“You belong to just me.” Kyoutani repeats, and bites hard into his shoulder. Yahaba gasps out, his hips fucking up and into Kyoutani’s hand. He has half a mind to reciprocate, but he’s seeing literal stars right now, and he’s focusing all his energy on staying upright.

“Wasn’t that-“ Yahaba pants, “-already obvious?”

This time Kyoutani lets out a groan- and it makes Yahaba feel smug as hell. The shifter drives his hips up and into the dip of Yahaba’s hip, almost showing Yahaba how had he is. He licks over the bite mark on Yahaba’s shoulder, and Yahaba sighs. His thumb slides up and around Yahaba’s slit, before dropping back down, rough, but perfect all the same.

Yahaba’s _everything_ is on fire. His toes are tingling, and his hands are shaking around Kyoutani’s back. He groans, head falling back, eyes squeezing shut. His chest heaves, and he gasps, thighs shaking, “Kyoutani, _Kyoutani-_ “

The teeth leave his shoulder, and join his mouth once more. Yahaba can hardly kiss back. Instead he just pants against his mouth, gasping, sucking in hair, _begging-_

Kyoutani twists his hand, and Yahaba’s vision whites out. He groans deep against Kyoutani’s mouth, his body trembling, completely shaking apart in Kyoutani’s hands. Kyoutani’s head falls back to watch; he watches his thighs tremble and his throat work as he sucks in air. He stills his hand, before dragging his palm up and over Yahaba’s navel, dragging slick against his skin.

“Ugh.” Yahaba peeks open an eye, completely out of breath, “Really?”

“Good thing we’re in the shower.” Kyoutani replies, flatly, and Yahaba huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, come here.” Yahaba pants, his nails sliding down and around the ass he’s come to adore so much. “Your turn.”

* * *

 

They lie in bed, not really saying much.

For once, Yahaba doesn't have anything to say. 

Kyoutani is back in those low riding grey sweatpants, and Yahaba is happy to be in a big fluffy shirt. Their legs tangle together- now much closer than they ever did before. He feels a hand draw circles on his thigh- it’s very gentle, and soft, and Yahaba thinks about how much power lies in those hands.

He closes his eyes, and relaxes. Finally, finally relaxes. Yahaba had worried himself sick over nothing- only to have it all spill over because Yahaba couldn’t keep his libido in check. Damn.

There’s a nose at his throat, and Yahaba peeks open an eye. He asks, flatly, “What are you doing?”

Kyoutani doesn’t reply. He only presses his nose into soft hair and breathes, before moving back down to the nasty bite mark he gave him earlier.

“If you wanna’ go again, you’re going to have to give me at least another ten minutes.”

Kyoutani huffs out a laugh in response, and grumbles, “No.”

Yahaba hums, and kicks at his calf, “What is it?”

“You just…” Kyoutani sits back, propping himself up on his elbows over Yahaba. “You don’t smell like me. Because of the shower.”

Yahaba blinks. “Oh. Is that bad?”

Kyoutani hums, and dips his head back down. He sucks at the bruise, and Yahaba flinches. It’s a little tender, but Kyoutani’s tongue feels good against the swollen wound. He licks a stripe up to Yahaba’s ear, before pressing his nose back into his neck. Kyoutani inhales once more, and then flops back, now at ease. “There.”

Yahaba’s hand rises, and he places his palm over the saliva on his neck, “Ew, really?”

Kyoutani gives another little laugh, and Yahaba can’t resist a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Yahaba walks around his kitchen in nothing but boxer briefs and an old gym shirt from the 90’s- you know, the thick cotton ones that have been through the wash one too many times. He can hear Kyoutani perch on the barstool, the plastic seat squeaking. Yahaba reaches for the toaster, and plops in two bagels. He turns on the coffee machine, and says nothing.

He still doesn’t know what to say.

Well, actually no.

He has _too much_ to say.

Kyoutani is still silent; he’s just sitting there, watching Yahaba parade around.

Finally, Yahaba thinks _fuck it,_ and turns, back pressing into the countertop.

“Hey, Kyoutani.”

The shifter looks up, “Hn?”

“Are we dating?” Yahaba crosses his arms.

Kyoutani blinks, slowly. He pauses, thinking of the right response, but ends up saying, “Well I’d fuckin’ hope so.”

It’s silent.

Yahaba laughs, raising a hand to hide his giggles, “Ah, good.”

“Any more stupid questions?” Kyoutani asks, elbow on the countertop, head in his hand.

“Actually, yes.” Yahaba says, turning around to brew the coffee. “How old are you?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes!” Yahaba laughs, “I seriously don’t know.”

“The same age as you.” Kyoutani states, an eyebrow raised. “Why?”

“Really?” Yahaba blinks, “No reason, you just look really young.”

“Hm. So do you.”

Yahaba smiles, pouring the cup of coffee black for Kyoutani, and then his own cup, riddled with sugar.

“One more stupid question.” Yahaba grins, sliding the coffee towards Kyoutani. “Do I get a kiss?”

“...Idiot.”  Kyoutani replies, rotating the bar stool around, and opening up his arms.

Yahaba grins, and slides up to him, smooth, and sly, free to wrap his arms around Kyoutani’s neck. They kiss sweet; once, twice- it’s unlike how Yahaba would imagine kissing someone so strong, and it’s nothing like those kisses in the shower.

Kyoutani pulls back to press his face into Yahaba’s neck, as if checking on the bruise he placed there last night.  He breathes in, hands slipping around his waist. Yahaba hums, happy, and Kyoutani feels the vibrations against his nose.

* * *

 

“Hey, asshole.” Yahaba peeks into the livingroom, tired from work. He waves around a sock, “How about you do laundry, for once?”

“Nah.” Kyoutani turns back to the T.V.

“Dude.” Yahaba glares, “If you’re gonna’ live here, I’m not going to keep doing your laundry for you.”

“I hate laundry.” Kyoutani states, like a fact.

“Yeah? Well I hate cleaning the kitchen.” Yahaba props his hand on his hip, “We all gotta’ do shit we don’t like.”

“Hm. I’ll clean the kitchen then.”

“What?”

“I’ll clean the kitchen, you do laundry.” Kyoutani snaps. “Problem solved.”

Yahaba stands there for a moment, feeling stupid, before snapping back “Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Also!” Yahaba waves around the sock, “Stop leaving your clothes on the floor.”

“Make me.” Kyoutani teases, and Yahaba can’t help it- he grins.

“Oh? Make you?” Yahaba throws down the sock, and skips across the room, throwing himself over Kyoutani. He lands on him, and Kyoutani makes a little _oof_ sound. He shifts around, rocking his full weight on top of the shorter, “How about that? Huh? You gonna’ pick up your socks?”

“Hmm.” Kyoutani wraps his arms around him, and squeezes, “No.”

Yahaba laughs, wiggling in his lap, “Oh? I promise, I can be very convincing.”

“Really now?"

He boops his nose, before standing up with a smile, “Yep! I’ll just buy a cat.”

“ _Wait-_ “ Kyoutani begins, and Yahaba laughs, waving around the sock as he crosses to the laundry room.

* * *

 

Watari taps his thumb against the steering wheel, a consistent thrum that mirrors the rumbling of the car engine.

“I knew it.” Watari grins, eyes on the road. “I totally knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Yahaba waves him off, “Whatever.”

“Who confessed first?”

“Er…” Yahaba rubs his nose, “It’s uh…a long story.”

“Oh?” Watari raises his eyebrows, “You guys totally did the naughty.”

“No!” Yahaba glares, but sits back, “Well….sorta. No. Yes?”

“Hahah!” Watari laughs, and checks his blind spot before changing lanes, “Damn, Yahaba. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Okay, I didn’t make the first move.” Yahaba crosses his arms, “Not inherently, anyways.”

“Incredible.” Watari shakes his head, “I can’t wait for the sergeant to hear this.”

Yahaba sighs, “Yeah. He’s going to say _I told you so_  too.”

“How are you guys getting along now?”

“Me and Kyou?”

“Yeah.”

“Like normal.” Yahaba shrugs, “Except more cuddling.”

“Heh.” Watari grins, “When we’re not on duty, I want details.”

“You perv.” Yahaba laughs.

“Me? A Perv? Nooo.”

Suddenly Yahaba perks up, and stares forwards. He points, “Speeder.”

“I see ‘em.” Watari flicks on the siren, and slams on the gas.

 

* * *

 

“Hey.”

Nothing.

“Hey!”

Poke.

“ _Kyoutani.”_

The dog opens an eye, visibly annoyed. Yahaba pokes his side once more, and says, “Are you awake?”

Kyoutani glares, and closes his eyes once more. Yahaba laughs, saying, “Stop that! Turn back into a human. I want to talk to you.”

Kyoutani gives him a look- almost saying _you can talk to me just like this-_ but Yahaba shakes his head, “No. I want human Kyoutani.”

The dog is stubborn, and stays still, glaring upwards. He was sound asleep earlier, curled up in the corner of Yahaba’s bed. Well. _Their_ bed now.

Yahaba frowns, “Hey. I’m not going to ask a _dog_ out on a date. Shift. Now.”

Kyoutani’s little eyes pop open, and he raises his head, looking up at Yahaba. The taller crosses his arms, but smiles when he sees the dog begin to glow.

Kyoutani could be stubborn, but Yahaba is even more so. They are surely a match made in hell- but Yahaba couldn’t care less.

The tuft of light rematerializes, glowing and pulsing into a human shape.  Kyoutani’s eyes pop open, and he blinks a few times; Yahaba tosses him some shorts, and Kyoutani catches them in one hand.

“So uh.” Kyoutani blinks, pulling his leg through the shorts. “A uh…a date?”

“Yeah.” Yahaba wiggles towards him, “We kinda’ skipped like five dating steps.”

“Oh?” Kyoutani teases, “And what are those?”

“Well first,” Yahaba flirts, crawling up to rest his head on Kyoutani’s broad shoulder, “step one, you tell me you like me.”

“Hm.” Kyoutani pulls him close, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Done.”

“Then, step two, you bring me flowers.”

Kyoutani rolls his eyes, and Yahaba pinches his side, jokingly.

“ _Then,_ in step three, you say _ohh, Yahaba, how my heart doth ache for thee,_ and then you ask me out on a super romantic date _.”_

Kyoutani lets out a loud snort, and Yahaba laughs, chest rising with every giggle.

“Then what?” Kyoutani smirks, “Romance master.”

“Oh, I’ll tell you.” Yahaba squirms so that he can look Kyoutani in the eye, “In step four you take me out to a fancy restaurant and we eat caviar and drink wine that doesn’t actually taste like a thirty-dollar drink should. ”

That actually gets a laugh out of Kyoutani. He looks down at Yahaba, the hand at his waist rising to plop on his head. His hands are so large, but warm and comforting all the same. He threads his fingers through Yahaba’s bead head, an amused look on his face. He looks so much better like this: the wrinkles between his eyebrows gone, and the dark circles under his eyes faded.

“And step five?”

“You bring me to my doorstep…” Yahaba begins, dropping his voice a little. “…you turn to look at me, and you say _I had a wonderful evening, Yahaba~.”_ He pushes himself up on his forearms, and leans up, now hovering over Kyoutani’s face. “And then you kiss me goodnight.”

“Hm.” A ghost of a smile crosses Kyoutani’s face, and he tugs on Yahaba’s hair, bringing the taller in for a kiss. It’s sweet, and gentle. Their lips softly smack with every kiss that parts, Yahaba’s head lightly bobbing to kiss back. Kyoutani lessons his grip in Yahaba’s hair, and they part. The shifter’s eyes are mischievous, and glossy, and he flirts, “Like that?”

“Hmm.” Yahaba pretends to think for a moment, “Sweeter.”

“Sweeter?” Kyoutani jokes, “That’s sweetest I got. You’re fresh outta’ luck.”

Yahaba laughs, “Here, I’ll show you.”

He leans down and presses one, single, closed mouthed kiss to Kyoutani’s lips, before pulling back.

Kyoutani frowns, “That’s boring. I liked it our way better.”

Yahaba smiles, and then laughs, “You’re right. Come here.”

Strong arms wrap around his waist and twist him, pressing his back into the sheets.

* * *

 

“The park?” Kyoutani blinks, looking around at all the trees.

“Yeah.” Yahaba shrugs, “I figured a fancy restaurant wasn’t meant for us.”

“Oh?” Kyoutani raises an eyebrow, “But I thought that was step four.”

“We have our own step four.” Yahaba winks, and holds up a bag. “I made us lunch anyways. We can go sit on the grass somewhere.”

Kyoutani looks ridiculously happy- well, to an outsider, he probably still looks like a grumpy man with weird hair- but Yahaba is learning him. He notices the way his eyes blink rapidly, and how he walks just a little faster than usual. Surely, Kyoutani is happy.

Although he speaks up, gruffly asking, “But like, this is just us hanging out. You said you wanted a date?”

“It _is_ a date. I brought a blanket to sit on.”

Kyoutani snorts, but blinks a few times more, and Yahaba grins.

They set up under the shade of a large tree- it’s branches fairly low. The blanket stretches beneath them, sandwiches in their hands. Yahaba kept it simple; just peanut butter and jelly, a few sodas, and a store-bought pie for desert.

It’s quiet here, except for the birds, and the occasional barking of a dog off in the distance. The grass was recently mowed, and smells really good.

Yahaba is honestly surprised that Kyoutani is playing along with him; he half expected a gruff _no_ at Yahaba’s mention of a date. Kyoutani just seems to be full of surprises- or maybe... maybe he just really likes Yahaba. Either way, it makes his insides feel all warm.

There’s more barking in the distance, and Yahaba turns with a smile, nudging his foot against Kyoutani’s, “Hey, I have a question.”

“Nn?”

“Can you understand that dog?” Yahaba asks, pointing with his sandwich.

Kyoutani blinks, and says in a deadpan, “Of course.”

“Really?” Yahaba smiles, “What are they saying?”

“Um.” Kyoutani turns his head, and listens. The dog barks a few times, and Kyoutani turns back, saying, “He’s happy. He’s just talking about how happy he is.”

“No way.” Yahaba smiles, “That’s adorable!”

“Yeah.” Kyoutani bites into his sandwich, “He won’t shut up about much he loves his owner.”

“How cute.” Yahaba marvels, “That’s neat though. What do dogs mostly talk about?”

“Nothing really that smart.” Kyoutani shrugs, “Usually food, or another dog. Most dogs just talk shit about other dogs, actually.”

Yahaba lets out a really loud laugh, and almost drops his sandwich, “Holy shit.”

Kyoutani tries not to laugh, instead hiding his smile behind his soda, “Yeah, I choose to ignore most of it.”

“Wow.” Yahaba laughs, sliding closer. “Can you understand other animals?”

“No.”

“Aww, bummer. I’ve always wanted to talk to birds.”

“Why’s that?”

“So I can tell them to _shut the fuck up_ at six a.m. on my Saturdays off.”

Kyoutani lets out a deep, rumbling laughter, eyes squishing shut, shoulders shaking. It’s a really good look for him.

Yahaba laughs too, elbowing him, “I’m so serious!”

“I know.” Kyoutani snickers, “That’s why it’s funny.”

“Shut up!” Yahaba laughs, poking him in the side.

 

* * *

 

“Yahaba,” Watari smiles, waving as he puts on his bulletproof vest.

“Good morning.” Yahaba waves.

“How you been?”

“Fine,” He smiles, and goes to grab his gear. "Great, actually. How about you?"

“Excited.” Watari wiggles, “Are you going to the squad party next week?”

“Squad party?”

“Yeah! The one Sergeant Kuroo is holding.”

“Pff.” Yahaba laughs, “That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Oh, I know.” Watari grins, “That’s why we’re going.”

Yahaba snorts, “Do you think he’ll do his party trick?”

“Oh yeah. With _Lev_ there? Totally.”

Yahaba laughs, and tightens his own vest, “Alright, I’m down.”

* * *

 

“What?!” Yahaba laughs, flicking popcorn across the couch. “No way.”

Kyoutani catches the popcorn in his mouth and chews it, saying, “Yep.”

“You’ve really traveled that far?” Yahaba stretches out his legs, toes wiggling by Kyoutani’s back. In turn, Kyoutani’s toes press underneath his thighs. Yahaba leans back against the armrest, and throws another piece of popcorn. Kyoutani catches it in his mouth once more.

“Mhm,” Kyoutani nods, “After I left, I wasn’t really a fan of stayin’ in one place.”

Yahaba really wants to press and ask more- _left where? who did you leave behind?-_ but he takes what he can get out of Kyoutani, and appreciates it. He pops a handful of popcorn in his mouth, before throwing another to Kyoutani. “Then whyd’ya stay here?”

The popcorn bounces off Kyoutani’s forehead, and lands somewhere on the floor. He stares, seriously, as if he’s trying to come up with a good answer. Yahaba swallows, and grimaces when he bites down on a kernel. Kyoutani is still silent, and Yahaba prepares himself to repeat his question, until Kyoutani says,

“You gave me a home.”

Yahaba drops the popcorn to the floor. He blinks, and blinks again, before he remembers to move his mouth. He says, “B-but, if you’d visited all those places, and have done all those things…surely you had places to live there?”

“There’s a difference between a house, and a home.” Kyoutani says blatantly, his hands reaching out to slide around Yahaba’s ankle. The latter doesn’t move, and watches Kyoutani brush his hand up towards his knee, and back down.  He squeezes his fingers into Yahaba’s calf, otherwise silent.

“Hm.” Yahaba nearly purrs, and opens up his arms. “Cm’ere.”

Kyoutani hesitates. Yahaba gestures with his arms once again, and Kyoutani finally moves. He shifts to his knees, and slides between Yahaba’s thighs, arms bracing themselves on the armrest behind Yahaba’s back.

The taller reaches up to wrap his arms around Kyoutani’s neck, slow, and fluid, tipping his chin up for a kiss. Kyoutani leans down to meet him- the kiss is warm, and sweet. Their kisses are getting better; Yahaba is learning to press his tongue against Kyoutani’s- he’s learning that dry kisses are nice, but wet kisses are better- he’s learning to recognize Kyoutani’s growls, and hums.

This kiss is turning especially dirty- Kyoutani isn’t letting Yahaba back off, delving his tongue into his mouth, and past his teeth. Yahaba sucks in a breath through his nose, hands finding leverage in his shirt. He can’t help it now; saliva drips past his lips, and down his chin.

Kyoutani, the sexy bastard, breaks the kiss to lean down and lick the trail of spit from the bottom of his chin, back up to his lips.

And boom, Yahaba is instantly hard.

“Fuck.” Yahaba whispers, and Kyoutani grins against his mouth.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, you’re gross.” Yahaba lies, and pulls a little on his hair, “Let me suck your dick.”

“Well,” Kyoutani teases, and presses his nose into Yahaba’s throat, “forward, aren’t you?”

“Up, up.” Yahaba prods at his chest, “I’m needy, come on.”

Kyoutani grins against his neck, and presses a surprisingly sweet kiss to the skin there, before rolling off him. He sighs, “Ah, if I have to.”

Yahaba laughs, and sinks off of him, sliding down to his knees on the ground. Kyoutani reaches for the button of his jeans, but Yahaba swats his hand away. He reaches up, eyes determined and sultry, and presses his hands into Kyoutani’s clothed thighs. He can see that Kyoutani is half-hard, so he kisses the bulge in his jeans, while slowly popping the button with his right hand. 

“I’m dating a fucking tease.” Kyoutani states.

“Oh?” Yahaba smirks, “You wanna’ see teasing?”

Kyoutani seems unable to respond to that- so Yahaba leans forwards, and grabs onto Kyoutani’s zipper with his teeth. He makes a show of dragging it down slowly, sucking in breaths against his navel.

Kyoutani has literally stopped breathing, so Yahaba reaches up to pat his tummy as a reminder. He presses his mouth against the wet spot on his underwear, and grins, “Heh.”

“What?” Kyoutani spits, a little defensive, and his face a little red.

“Nothing, you’re cute.” Yahaba says, and shows mercy. He leans back, and dips his fingers beneath both layers of fabric. He gives a tug, forcing the jeans down to his mid-thigh.

“You want them off?”

“Nah.” Yahaba wiggles forwards, eyeing all the new skin predatorily, “I can work around it.”

“Fuck.” Kyoutani says, “You make it sound like a doctor’s appointment.”

Yahaba gives a snort and tips his head to mouth at the base of his dick. He’s a decent size- he probably won’t fit in Yahaba’s mouth completely, he figures, but it’s fine. It's nothing a little determination can't fix.

Yahaba can’t deny that he loves this; he loves the joking nature, and the lightness of it all. He likes the banter- the quick jabs- and he likes how fucking good Kyoutani tastes.

Yahaba decides to cut the shit- he grips Kyoutani at his base, and pulls him into his mouth, minding his teeth. Kyoutani doesn’t react, but, oh ho, he _will._

Yahaba starts off normal; slow pumps of his hand, and the drag of his tongue. He occasionally pulls up to lick across and around the head, just for fun, before slipping back down. He’s enjoying himself, and Kyoutani, obviously, isn’t displeased. A hand hesitantly dips into Yahaba’s hair, and the latter hums. Yahaba makes the mistake of letting his mind wander- he imagines that hand shoving hard at his head; he imagines that hand pulling, yanking his head back, and barring his neck.

Yahaba lets out the dirtiest, neediest, most _filthy_ moan Yahaba has ever let out of his throat, like, ever- all around Kyoutani’s dick.

“Holy _fuck._ ” Kyoutani gasps, eyes opening wide, “What the _hell_ was that-“

Yahaba slides off him, saliva dripping down his chin. He grins sheepishly, “Sorry. I like my hair being pulled.”

“Fucking obviously.” Kyoutani gasps, his throat a little raw, “Goddamn, you shouldn’t be allowed to make noises like that.”

Oh?

Yahaba looks up, eyes sparkling, and his grin evil. His smugness is written all over his face, but he says nothing. Yahaba dips his tongue across bare skin once more, and digs his nails into the strong thighs around him. The hand in his hair gives a little pull, and Yahaba hums.

He’s actually getting really hard from this- from Kyoutani’s smothered groans, and his tiny shivers, from the cock heavy against his tongue, and the hand in his hair. He has half a mind to be embarrassed but Kyoutani doesn’t seem to care at all. Yahaba sucks and bobs his head, now moving at a steady pace.

Yahaba was born to suck dick; It's just his life's calling. Some people can juggle, some people can paint, some people can do math.

Yahaba is good with a dick in his mouth. It's pretty much the same thing.

Kyoutani seems to react off instinct- he suddenly groans, and snaps his hips up. He pulls on Yahaba’s hair, forcing him down to deepthroat Kyoutani.

Yahaba sucks in a surprised breath of air through his nose, but refuses to gag. Kyoutani lets go of Yahaba, as if he burned him; “Fuck! Fuck, Yahaba I’m sorr-“

Yahaba seriously has to take a second, as to not fucking come in his pants. He looks up, eyes watering, mouth drooling, and he swallows Kyoutani down his throat as far as he can go. It burns- it stings, but Yahaba takes one look at Kyoutani’s face, and decides that it’s totally worth it.

His mouth is open, head tipped back, his chest rising and falling. It’s so interesting to see Kyoutani trembling, his hands twitching to grab Yahaba’s hair again. Yahaba swallows once more, and pulls his head back to breathe. His neck vaguely aches, but really, the best things in life come at a price. He sucks in a breath, and goes down once more, thumbs digging into muscle.

“Hahh, fhh-n- _Yahaba_ -“ Kyoutani’s face is red, and flushed, and it’s such a huge turn on. Yahaba can feel his own dick straining against his jeans, painfully so- but he focuses on Kyoutani. He flattens his tongue, licking and sucking wherever he can. Kyoutani pulls on his hair, and Yahaba groans around him.

There’s a gasp, and then a moan. It’s a beautiful moan, honestly. It’s one that Yahaba wants to record and set as his ringtone. It’s one he wants to wake up to as an alarm clock. He wants to put it on his ipod and listen to it as he drives to work.

Kyoutani gasps out, “Yahaba, _Yahaba,_ careful I’m-“

“Mmm,” Yahaba hums, and pulls back, jerking him off with his hand. Kyoutani is trying to watch as best he can, but his entire body trembles, and his head falls back, eyes closing. Yahaba works him through it, his hand pumping to a rhythm, his lips mouthing across his head.

“Hhn-“ Kyoutani’s back arches, and his body tenses, strong, and unwavering.

When Kyoutani finally comes back to planet earth, he has half a mind to open his eyes, and look down.

Yahaba is kneeling, the heel of one hand pressing into his crotch, the other wiping away at the slick that pools off his lips, and down his chin.

“Mother _fucker._ ” Kyoutani groans, pressing his hands into his eyes. “Son of a bitch.”

“Hm?” Yahaba licks his fingers, lewd, and teasing. Kyoutani peeks through his fingers, only to press his face back into his hands.

Kyoutani groans, “What are you?”

Yahaba laughs, and feels dirty, kneeling between his legs like this. Kyoutani gestures upwards, and Yahaba finds the strength to climb back up on the couch. His knees ache a little, but it’s barely noticeable. He straddles Kyoutani’s hips, tucking him back inside his underwear in the process.

Kyoutani. _Kyoutani._ The sly, sexy, jerk.

He pulls Yahaba forwards, and licks all the come and saliva of Yahaba’s lips. His tongue is trained and determined, licking down his chin, and around his neck.

Yahaba is stuck in a perpetual state of shock and arousal, staring forwards, harder than hell.

Kyoutani smiles, and brings Yahaba’s sticky hand to his mouth- he makes a show of licking that too.

“God.” Yahaba gasps, “Don’t even touch my dick. Just keep doing that and I’ll be done.”

Kyoutani chuckles, low, and hot, and presses a stupid cute kiss to Yahaba’s palm.

* * *

 

“Yo!” Sergeant Kuroo calls, throwing out an arm, “Shigeru, my dude.”

Yahaba smiles, and claps his hand in his,  “Hello sir.”

“Pff.” Kuroo sputters, “We’re not at work. Enough with the _‘sir’_ nonsense.”

Yahaba rolls his eyes, “Hello _moron._ ”

Kuroo grins, “There he is!”

There's a pause- time almost seems to go slow, for a moment. Yahaba sees something flicker in his eyes; some kind of recognition, or realization- but it happens all too quickly. Yahaba thinks he might've imagined it all. 

There’s a hand at Kuroo’s shoulder, and he turns, swept away by someone else.

This bar is full of cops, all sipping drinks and sitting around booths. Yahaba spots Watari and Kindaichi, and slides in next to them.  

They make easy conversation all evening; he keeps a lookout for Oikawa, but doesn’t see him show.

“Yeah! It was weird.” Kindaichi continues, waving his arms around, “But what are you gonna’ do?”

“Ugh, I hate traffic stops.” Yahaba shakes his head. “You never know if-“

Suddenly there’s yelling.

It’s Lev and Yamamoto, of course. Kuroo’s entire squad is roudy, and loud. They’re chanting,  “ _Do it! Do it! Do it!”_

“Uh oh.” Watari grins, “He’s gonna do his party trick.”

“Great.” Yahaba laughs, “You know, I’ve never seen him actually do it.”

“Really?” Kindaichi blinks. “Well-“

He’s cut off by more screaming. Kuroo hops up on a table, and laughs, his body glowing in white light.

There’s some calls of “ _Boy he boutta do it-“_ and “ _Kuroo! Kuroo!”_

Yahaba watches his body become an odd shape, like liquid metal. It bends into a much smaller shape, eventually forming into a black cat. He plops down on the table, perfectly on all fours, and his squad _screams._

“Yeahhhh!!!”

“Woo! Sarg!”

The cat meows, and somehow manages to look smug as hell. He jumps up on the back of the booth, and walks around, eventually plopping onto Yahaba’s table.

“Ew.” Yahaba laughs, “This is unsanitary.”

“Mrew.” Kuroo purrs, and steps over Yahaba’s drink to step in his lap. He slithers around his hand, letting out proud little meows. 

“Dude!” Yahaba laughs, “This is weird.”

Kuroo plops around, jumping onto Watari’s lap, before waddling more around the bar. The other policemen laugh, watching him parade around as if he owns the place.

Yahaba remembered being skeptical, back when he first heard about a shifter sergeant- but Kuroo has turned out to be one of the best. His incredible reflexes and instincts have kept his team safe.

Kuroo prances around the bar some more, earning more laughs. Yahaba sips his beer with a smile, before turning back to listen to Watari once more.

* * *

 

He comes home a little drunk, and a little tired, but he’s happy nevertheless. He flips on the lights to his apartment and closes the door behind him. He’s surprised to see Kyoutani on the couch, his legs drawn to his chest.

“Hey.” Yahaba nods, and shrugs off his jacket, “You’re up late.”

“You’re home late.” Kyoutani states.

“Oh, yeah um,” Yahaba runs his hand through his hair, “we got talking, and I lost track of time. Sorry I forgot to text you.”

Kyoutani is silent for a moment, before mumbling, “It’s okay.” He shifts off the couch, and patters over to meet Yahaba by the door. The taller opens his arms, ready for a hug.

Kyoutani is surprisingly snuggly. It’s very nice.

He wraps his arms around Yahaba, and presses his nose into Yahaba’s shoulder. He breathes in, deep. It's something that Kyoutani seems to do alot- always pressing his face into his shoulder, or his neck.  Yahaba sighs, and brings his arms to rest around Kyoutani’s  neck.

Kyoutani jumps back, as if burned.

Yahaba lets out a little yelp. He gasps, “What? What?”

Kyoutani stares, and stares, his eyes narrowing into a glare that Yahaba hasn’t seen for a while. He clenches his fists, “You smell.”

Yahaba sputters, “Pff! Rude! You know I’ve been drinking.”

“No.” Kyoutani growls, “You smell like cat.”

Yahaba’s face drops. “Are you fucking kidding me? You won’t hug me because I smell like a cat?”

“No.” Kyoutani snaps, “You smell like a cat shifter.”

Yahaba rolls his eyes, and walks to go drop his jacket on the back of the couch. “Grow up. It was just Sergeant Kuroo.”

Kyoutani growls, low, “Your Sergeant is a cat shifter?”

“Why does it matter?” Yahaba slurs a little. His head hurts like hell, and he doesn’t really feel like arguing.

“ _Because._ ” Kyoutani snaps, “You can’t see him anymore.”

“What?!” Yahaba turns, voice raising. “Woah, woah, there, buddy. He’s not even _my_ boss. He’s just in control of his squad. We had _drinks._  Holy shit, Kyoutani.”

“I don’t care.” Kyoutani’s eyes are dark, and brooding, “Not if you come home smelling like him.”

“ _Kyoutani._ ” Yahaba hisses, “I get it. We’re dating, but you can’t tell me who I can and can't hang out with.”

“Well that’s _exactly_ what I’m going to do.” Kyoutani spits. “You said you were mine-“

“I _am_ yours!” Yahaba balls up his fists, “I’m not fuckin’ cheating on you!”

“Then don’t see him again!”

“No!” Yahaba takes a step towards him, “I can see whoever I want, whenever I want, because I’m a fucking _adult._ If you aren’t okay with that, then you can just leave.”

Yahaba is drunk. He’s not thinking right. In hindsight, he might have approached this whole situation differently.

But Kyoutani growls low in his throat, and spits “ _Fine._ ”

He stomps out the door. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the comments and asks guys ( ᐛ )و

A part of Yahaba expects Kyoutani to be there the next morning. He expects to see broad shoulders over the top of the couch, or a small dog, curled up on the floor.

He sees neither.

Yahaba broods all day. It’s Sunday, and Yahaba has nothing to do. There’s no one to banter with, and there’s no one to cuddle.

So he dusts his nick-knacks, and cleans out his fridge. He does silly things, like organizing his sock drawer, and scrubing the baseboards.

The apartment is quiet.

 _Stupid Kyoutani._ Yahaba scrubs, _Stupid, stupid Kyoutani, treating me like a possession._

He goes to bed that night, his body sore, and his eyes tired. The pit in his stomach only worsens when he wakes up, and feels no body there, yet again.

His sheets feel cold. There’s no toes against his.

 _Stupid._ Yahaba thinks, out of pure spite, and rises to get dressed for work. _I don’t care if he comes back._

That’s a lie.

Yahaba trudges to work, trying not to think about gold eyes and fluffy dog tails.

* * *

 

“Yahaba…” Watari sighs, his hands gripping the steering wheel, “You know I love you, man. I really do, but you’re being a _fucking idiot.”_

 _“_ Hey!" Yahaba spits, “Whose side are you on? Did you not hear me?”

“Yeah, I heard you.” Watari says, “And I agree, that wasn’t cool of him to order you around like that but-“

“Right!” Yahaba cuts him off, crossing his arms over his uniform, “I’m not an object-“

“ _But._ ” Watari stresses, “I don’t think you’re trying to connect to him at all.”

Yahaba backpedals, “What?”

“I mean, yeah, things were going good between you two,” Watari waves around his free hand, “but you’re not thinking about _his_ feelings. Think about the position _he’s_ in.”

“Why should I?” Yahaba sputters, and he knows he sounds so bratty-“He’s obviously not thinking of _my_ feelings either!”

“Yeah, and he’s at fault too.” Watari says, “But you can’t fight fire with fire. You gotta’ step inside each other’s shoes.”

Yahaba pauses, before blinking, and sinking down in the seat, “…yeah…” 

And instantly, Yahaba feels like shit. Maybe he was being an ass.

_Dammit._

“I don’t know a whole lot about shifters.” Watari shrugs, “But I don’t see Kyoutani acting like that for no reason.”

Yahaba sniffs, and rubs his nose, “I…guess…”

“Anyways, I think you should apologize.” Watari sighs, “And you know I hate lecturing you, man. But you really should.”

“He…he hasn’t come back home.” Yahaba looks to his lap.

“Does he have a phone?”

“No.” Yahaba blinks, “Do you think…he’ll come back?”

“I don’t know.” Watari shrugs, “Maybe you should talk to the Sergeant.”

Yahaba sighs again, but smiles, “Ugh, I hate it when you’re right about stuff.”

Watari laughs, and slaps his arm, “Lighten up, I’m _always_ right.”

“Pfff!” Yahaba laughs, and Watari joins him.

* * *

 

Yahaba stares at his phone. He thrums his fingers against the table, before sighing, and reaching for it. He scrolls through his contacts, eventually selecting Oikawa’s name. He holds it to his ear, and takes a deep breath, waiting for it to ring.

It rings once, twice, and almost three times, before a chirpy voice says, “ _Oikawa speaking!”_

“Hey.” Yahaba says, “It’s Shigeru.”

 _“Yahaba_!” He can hear Oikawa’s smile, “ _What’s up, buddy_?”

“Do you uh…have a second to talk?”

“ _Yeah! Is it an emergency_?”

“No, no.” Yahaba sighs, “Nothing work related.”

“ _Ohhh_.” Oikawa says, “ _Well, I’m just eating dinner alone, so go for it_.”

“Um.” Yahaba breathes, “Kyoutani and I had a fight. Um. He ran away.”

“ _Oh shit_.” Oikawa gasps, “ _Are you okay_?”

“Yeah. I was uh,” Yahaba gives a fake laugh, “I was actually pretty mad at him, until Watari put me in my place today.”

“ _Good ol’ Watari_.” Oikawa laughs, “ _What happened_?”

“I…I really don’t know.” Yahaba sighs, “I went to Sergeant Kuroo’s party the other night. I didn’t think it’d be a big deal. I came home, and apparently I smelled like Kuroo, and Kyou threw a fit.”

“ _Oh man_ …”

“Do you know what happened?” Yahaba picks up a pen sitting on the table, and begins to play with it nervously, “Because I seriously don’t.”

“ _Yeah…well…it’s probably best if Kyoutani explains it to you himself, but_ …” Oikawa sighs, “ _Dog shifters are the most possessive people out there. It’s really hard for them to control it._ ”

“Is it a cat thing, or something?”

“ _No, no_.” Oikawa says, “ _It’s just a shifter thing. They really don’t like smelling anyone else on their lovers. Well, especially new lovers. Iwa and I have been together for a long time, so he is way more tolerant.”_

Yahaba almost chokes at the word _lovers._

“He said I couldn’t see Kuroo anymore.” Yahaba sputters, “Like, like he was my dad, or something.”

“ _Hm_ …”

“You uh…” Yahaba sighs, “You weren’t at the party. Has Iwaizumi done the same?”

“ _No_.” Oikawa laughs, “ _I didn’t go because Kuroo is a huge flirt_.”

“Oh.” 

Oikawa laughs again, _“ Yeah, but Iwa used to be like Kyoutani.  He used to get really upset when I hung out around Kuroo or Sawamura or Bokuto- but Iwa has become more comfortable. He knows I’m not gonna’ leave for someone els_ e.”

“Oh…” Yahaba blinks. “I…I think I understand.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Oikawa says “ _Just give it time, and talk it out. It’ll be okay_.”

“Thank you, Oikawa.” Yahaba smiles, “This helped a lot.”

“ _No problem!_ ” He pipes, “ _Call me anytime._ ”

“Thank you.”

“ _Stay safe!_ ”

“You too.” Yahaba smiles, “Goodnight.”

He hangs up the phone, placing it down on the counter. He takes in a breath, and presses his face in his hands.

The apartment feels cold.

* * *

 

He stresses out over it _all day._ He considers driving around town- maybe putting up fliers. _Lost Dog!_

How ironic.

He thinks about stopping by Kyoutani's work, or calling his boss. Surely he wouldn’t just leave town, right?

Yahaba opens the door, ready to get changed, and leave again. He _needs_ to find-

Kyoutani.

Kyoutani is sitting on his couch, the T.V. off, just staring at the floor. He doesn’t move, as if he heard Yahaba walking from a mile away.

“Oh.” Yahaba says, aloud, and locks the door behind him. “You’re back.” His hands are shaking- Yahaba hides them.

Kyoutani doesn’t say anything. The apartment is eerily quiet, and Yahaba lets out a little cough.

“I um…” Yahaba begins, “I was worried about you.”

Kyoutani looks up- his eyes are a little surprised, and his shoulders tense.

“I…” Yahaba rubs his left arm nervously, “I don’t know about you, but I kinda’ wanna’ talk this out. You okay with that?”

“Yeah.” Kyoutani says gruffly, standing up, “Me too.”

“Cool.” Yahaba sniffs. “I’ll make us some tea.”

Kyoutani takes a seat at the little kitchen table, and Yahaba moves to boil some water. He selects two tea bags; he knows Kyoutani likes mint. Kyoutani also likes apples and turkey and grass and wind chimes and the morning sun-

Damnit. Yahaba, focus.

Kyoutani doesn’t move from the table; he’s watching Yahaba, his hands fidgeting.

It’s silent. You can hear the ticking of the clock in the living room. The tension is thick, and foggy- Yahaba wants to open a window and air it out. He wants to laugh, and cut through it with a blade.

Instead he sets down two cups of tea, and takes a seat across from Kyoutani.

“Alright, well.” Yahaba begins, and places his cold hands around his cup, “I’m not going to sugarcoat this or anything. Um,” He waits until Kyoutani looks him in the eye, “I was really hurt by what you said. It made me feel like you didn’t trust me- like you were accusing me of cheating.”

Kyoutani opens his mouth, and says, “I-“

“Let me finish.” Yahaba is trying to stay calm, trying to keep his voice low, “You…also made me feel like I was just an object. Like…like I wasn’t a person with feelings.”

Kyoutani tenses a little, and turns his eyes down to glare at his cup. He looks surprisingly small. Yahaba expected him to be loud, and angry- but instead he’s quiet, staring at the swirls of his tea.

“But…” Yahaba sighs, “I want to apologize. I should’ve been more sensitive towards your feelings, and I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sorry.”

Kyoutani looks incredibly surprised to hear an apology out of him. His eyes are wide, and his back pulls tight, like a string. He opens his mouth, and closes it again.

“Yeah, so…” Yahaba flushes, and dammit, he hates blushing- “That’s all I have to say about that.”

It’s silent.

Kyoutani starts to speak.

“I didn’t mean to…” Kyoutani breathes, “I didn’t mean to um…hurt you like that.”

“That’s what I figured.” Yahaba says, softly.

“I’m sorry.” Kyoutani states. It’s simple and short, but those two words mean a lot, coming from Kyoutani.

“It’s okay.” Yahaba breathes, and feels the tension dissipating, little by little. “But…can you please help me understand why you acted like that?”

Kyoutani sucks in a breath, and looks away, “I…I just, I don’t know. It’s instinctual. I've always had a really hard time controlling it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” Kyoutani spits, but immediately recoils. He pulls back, sinking down in his chair, eyes darting anywhere but to Yahaba's gentle eyes. He repeats himself in a softer tone,“Sorry…I don’t know.” He pauses, and Yahaba is patient.

He waits.

Kyoutani speaks again:

“It just makes me sick to my stomach. To um. To have you smell like someone else. It’s kind of a….”

“Insecurity thing?” Yahaba finishes, his eyes soft, and understanding.

Kyoutani flinches at the bluntness of the word, and mumbles, “Yeah.”

Yahaba takes a moment to breathe. He takes a moment to consider what Watari said.

_Step inside each other’s shoes._

“Well…” Yahaba begins, “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, honestly. I’ve got it pretty bad,” Yahaba smiles, “for you.”

Kyoutani looks up, and Yahaba watches his features brighten, just a little. The wrinkles between his evebrows smooth back into tan skin, and the line of his mouth becomes softer, like a loose violin string.

Yahaba looks down at his tea, and nods, “I hope you understand that I’m still going to hang around other shifters. I can’t just avoid people at work.”

Kyoutani tenses.

“ _But._ ” Yahaba stresses, with a smile, “I’ll be extra careful.”

Kyoutani looks up, and wiggles a little in his seat. He gives a smile too, effortless, and beautiful, “Thank you. I’ll try to give you space.”

“Pff.” Yahaba laughs, “You better not withhold any hugs from me. I’ve gone _three days_ without a warm dog in my bed, and I think I’m going crazy.”

Kyoutani laughs, and rises from his chair, crossing around to wrap his arms around Yahaba’s neck, and squeeze.

The latter is taken by surprise, but he smiles, and is more than happy to wrap his arms around Kyoutani’s back. He feels warm and strong under Yahaba's fingertips, just like he always does. Yahaba digs his fingers into the space between his shoulder baldes, and traces down the valley of his spine.

Kyoutani sinks onto the chair, his knee resting between Yahaba’s thighs. He presses his nose into Yahaba’s neck, and inhales.

This feels good. The pit in Yahaba’s chest is dissolving away, like an alka-seltzer. It gives life to new air; Yahaba can finally breathe again, thank goodness. There's nothing worse than that gross tar of anger and guilt that builds up in your chest after a fight with someone you care about. 

Kyoutani mumbles, low, “You know I…I trust you, right.”

“Thank you.” Yahaba smiles, and runs his hand down Kyoutani’s strong back, “I trust you too.”

It’s silent, then-

“But if you ever run away and make me worry again I _will_ kick your ass.”

Kyoutani snorts against his neck, and squeezes him harder. “Agreed.”

* * *

 

Yahaba has never had makeup sex. He’s never really had that bad of a fight with a lover before, so he figured sex was sex, like, whatever.

But oh, ho ho. Yahaba was _so_ wrong.

That evening, everything had been going well. They’d been civil since the talk at the kitchen table. Kyoutani was hovering a little bit more than usual, but Yahaba didn’t mind in the slightest.

It wasn’t until that night, while sitting on the couch together, that Kyoutani had leaned over, his mouth brushing against Yahaba’s ear. That deep soothing smell of Kyoutani's shampoo hovered close, his body trapping him in.

Kyoutani had mumbled, deep, and low, “ _I want you to sit on my fucking face._ ”

And that’s how they ended up here, Yahaba gripping onto the top of the headboard, his thighs straddling Kyoutani’s head.  

Typically, Yahaba is a pretty composed guy. Yeah, he’ll yell, and throw mini bitch fits, but he generally has his act together. He’s a grown man, with a job, who pays taxes, and worries about his heat bill. 

But right now? Oh hell no. Yahaba is fucking _wrecked,_ his head tipped forwards, resting against the headboard as he grinds down against Kyoutani.

Kyoutani’s tongue should honestly be outlawed; he delves his tongue in and out of Yahaba at a constant pace. He’s _fucking_ Yahaba with his tongue, and its literally awesome. He digs his fingers into the squish of Yahaba’s ass, spreading him open, leaving bruises that will stay for weeks. That’s fine; it's kind of a turn on.

Kyoutani's tongue drives in as far as it'll go, and Yahaba's heart just about stops. His throat has gone raw, he’s moaning so much. He can feel himself drooling as he gasps out, “ _Hahh- Kyoutani-_ “

He’s so fucking hard, flushed against his hip, still untouched, but already close.

This would’ve been over a long time ago, had Kyoutani a longer tongue. 

Yahaba can’t help it, he grinds down against Kyoutani, his nails digging into the head board. He shivers, and feels a little bad- Kyoutani is definitely holding up half his body weight, but is doing so effortlessly.

“ _God-_ “ Yahaba gasps, trembling, and wiggling, “ _Fuck-_ “

He feels Kyoutani’s muscles tense, and he lifts Yahaba up off his face, just a little. He grunts, “Lube,” and Yahaba moans. He leans back, and pats around for the bottle. Kyoutani lifts up a hand, and Yahaba pours some across his fingers. He gives a little noise of appreciation, and drags his fingers down and around Yahaba’s ass.

Yahaba has already been stretched slightly from Kyoutani’s tongue, but the sting of his index finger feels _so_ fucking good-

He gasps out, forehead digging into the wood of the headboard once more. His back arches, tight, and strong, and he moans out garbage. God, he's a policeman. He's supposed to uphold the law and be a good example to old ladies and troubled youngsters- but he feels so filthy, so fucking ravished, almost unhuman. 

Kyoutani is able to add a second finger without much resistance, and takes the opportunity to mouth at the underside of Yahaba’s balls- which _holy shit,_ is beyond awesome-

“Kyoutani, _Kyoutani,_ fuck, fuck-“ Yahaba shivers, “Do it, please, fuck, _please-“_

“Do what?” Kyoutani asks, and drives his fingers down far, pressing right where Yahaba needs them.

“ _Hggghhh-_ “ Yahaba drags out, squeezing his eyes shut, and biting down on his cheek. Kyoutani goes to do it again, but Yahaba’s hand shoots down to wrap around his wrist. He gasps out, “No! Stop.”

Kyoutani freezes. He wiggles up to look Yahaba in the eye. He blinks, “You okay?”

“I want you to fuck me.” Yahaba pants, shivering, and wet.

Kyoutani looks dumbfounded. He chokes out, “Um, I won’t last-“

“Oh yeah, and I will?” Yahaba gives a half laugh, “Please, now, I don’t _care-_ “

There’s a very hot, low, growl that rumbles from Kyoutani’s chest. That’s all the warning Yahaba gets, before he’s picked up, and thrown on his back, bouncing against the pillows.

Yahaba gasps, his hips wiggling, and spreads his legs. He is _so_ about this, honestly, but Kyoutani doesn't need to know just how much Yahaba has thought about this. It's mildly embarrassing and makes Yahaba feel sixteen. 

Kyoutani kneels between Yahaba's legs, shoving down his pants to his thighs. He looks up, and immediately freezes; he looks over Yahaba, who is naked and hard, already gripping the sheets with a determined look on his face. Kyoutani’s mouth falls open a little, and he doesn’t move.

“What?” Yahaba blinks, shameless, “What?”

“Nothing.” Kyoutani shifts forwards, shaking his head. His voice sounds raw,  “Condom?”

“Bedside drawer.” Yahaba answers, and watches him reach over to dig for one. He really, _really_ wants to just grab himself and jerk off- he’s already _so_ close- but he wants to wait. He wants to feel Kyoutani on top of him, he wants to feel _full-_

Kyoutani slides up to him, fingers wet with more lube. He traces around Yahaba’s ass, and presses two fingers in, and then three, just to make sure he’ll be okay. Yahaba bitches, “Dude, I’m serious, come _on._ ”

Kyoutani smiles, and leans down to press a kiss to Yahaba’s shoulder. He’s being polite, and doesn’t go in for a direct kiss- instead lightly nipping at his neck as a show of affection. He pulls out his fingers before he lines up to Yahaba and says, "This'll be fast."

Yahaba snorts, because hell, that's _his_ line- but it's okay, Yahaba doesn't need perfect. He doesn't need super long amazing mindblowing sex; he just needs Kyoutani.

The shifter pushes into him halfway. The taller grips the sheets and gasps, because _fuck_ does it feel good. Of course it stings, but Yahaba has certainly felt worse pain.

 Kyoutani pauses to let them both breathe, before pushing all the way in. They're both breathing heavily, filling the air with CO2 and heat.

Neither of them are virgins, and it obviously shows; Yahaba hikes up his left leg onto Kyoutani’s shoulder, and the shifter immediately leans into him, like a dance. He thrusts in hard, just like Yahaba wants.

“ _Fuck._ ” Kyoutani spits, shivering. He pulls back on his knees, and thrusts forwards once more.

“Y-you’re telling me.” Yahaba laughs out- it turns into a gasp, and then a low, filthy moan. He digs his right heel into the sheets for leverage, and holds on for dear fucking life.

Kyoutani is really good at this; it almost pisses Yahaba off, in a sense. His body seems ready made for sex- strong, and beautiful. He’s hitting every spot, doing everything right; his hands press into Yahaba’s hip, and his thigh.

“Hhhn-“ Yahaba tips his head back, and groans out, “Kyou-“

Kyoutani lets out a pant, and his rhythm slows for a moment, before picking back up much better than before. 

Yahaba has been on the edge for what feels like years, his dick swollen as hell, untouched between them. Yahaba reaches down to jerk himself off- but he never gets the chance.

Kyoutani growls, fucking _growls-_ like, how sexy is that? He growls, and moves faster, and that’s exactly what does Yahaba in. 

He sobs, body tensing, toes curling, and his body explodes in heat and light and every cliché you can think of; Yahaba feels it all.

Kyoutani gives a little gasp, stilling for a moment as Yahaba clenches around him.

“Sorry-“ Yahaba groans out, still riding out his orgasm, and still trying to remember how breathing works. Slowly, his thighs stop shaking, and his hands unclech in the sheets. He feels like a new person, now able to see much clearer. He feels his body begin to calm; it’s a nice, sweeping feeling that begins at his chest, and works down to his feet. He wiggles a little, and breathes, “Keep going.”  

“You sure?” Kyoutani asks, and it sounds so broken that Yahaba thinks he might get hard again.

“Yeah.” He slides his leg off of Kyoutani’s shoulder, and draws Kyoutani’s face towards his own. He presses a kiss to his cheek, and feels Kyoutani begin to move again. He gives a little gasp and tips his head back.

Kyoutani does his favorite thing, which is to nuzzle his face in Yahaba’s neck. He fucks him steady, and strong, and it makes affection well up in Yahaba’s chest.

“I missed you.” Yahaba says in a pant, now that he can think clearly again, “I missed you so much.”

Kyoutani laughs into his shoulder, “I was gone for three days.”

“I know.” Yahaba shivers, “I need you.”

Kyoutani lets out a shaky breath, and Yahaba feels him tremble a little bit. He mumbles something low, and incoherent to Yahaba's human ears, "No, you don't."

 Thighs meet thighs as Kyoutani drives his hips up into Yahaba. The sounds are dirty, but perfect nonetheless.

Yahaba is slick, and spent, but it still feels good-being connected to Kyoutani like this. He feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest.

They get it now- they’re going to work hard at understanding each other. This isn’t going to be some flaky relationship; together they’ll work hard, and grow strong. There’s something about that…something about the intimacy of it all…it makes Yahaba want to cry.

“I smell salt.” Kyoutani swallows, his hips slowing, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Yahaba brings his hand up and into Kyoutani’s hair, “I guess I just really like you.”

Kyotuani blinks, and then tucks his head back into Yahaba’s shoulder, his hips driving up one last time.

“Come on.” Yahaba prods him, sliding his hands over his shoulders in a soothing motion, “I got you.”

Kyoutani shivers apart, sucking in heavy breaths, and sagging into Yahaba’s arms.

* * *

 

“My what?” Kyoutani asks, tipping his head a little. Yahaba fits perfectly in his arm, clean, and snuggly. The bruises on his thighs are defined, glowing against his skin, peeking beneath his shorts.

“Your first name.” Yahaba repeats. He traces his finger along Kyoutani’s arm, trailing across the blue vein, and strong muscle. “Kyoutani is a last name, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Kyoutani mumbles, “But why does it matter?”

“Um,” Yahaba retorts, “because we’re dating?”

“And?”

Yahaba replies, sarcastically, “ I dunno’, this may just be a personal preference, but whenever someone _eats my ass_ I kinda’ like to know their first name.”

Kyoutani breathes out air through his nose- a silent laugh as he shifts closer to Yahaba. “Sorry. I just haven’t told many people.”

“Well, what is it?”

“Kentarou.” Kyoutani says, soft, against Yahaba’s hair.

“Kentarou.” Yahaba tests the word on his tongue, “I like it. It fits you.”

“Er…” Kyoutani sniffs, “Thanks. I guess.”

Yahaba smiles, and twists around to press a quick, easy kiss to the side of his mouth. “You’re welcome, _Kentarou._ ”

“Don’t say it like that,” Kyoutani laughs, bumping his nose against Yahaba’s. It makes Yahaba’s chest warm, and his ears burn.

Kyoutani is very human. He isn’t a weird half-dog man that chews on the furniture and eats socks.

But Yahaba has noticed the small things, all in the way he shows affection; the little nose kisses, the licking, the biting, the face in his neck- it’s incredibly sweet, and Yahaba enjoys it all.

It’s been a long, _long_ day, so Yahaba rolls over, and presses his face into Kyoutani’s chest, finally falling sleep without nightmares.

* * *

 

Weeks later, Yahaba stands, his eyebrows raised and his arms crossed.

“Please?” Oikawa grins, rocking back and forth, looking nothing like a man with so much power, “Pretty please?”

“Sergeant…” Yahaba laughs, resting up against the doorway to Oikawa’s office, “Is this really why you called me here?”

“Yes!” Oikawa grins, “I think it would be really fun.”

“Oikawa, when Kuroo _touched me_ , Kyoutani threw a fit.” Yahaba shakes his head, “Can you imagine me going over to your house? Where _everything_ smells like Iwaizumi? It would only end in disaster.”

Oikawa flops his hand around, “Pshh, no way! Iwa is totally down for it, he wants to meet him too! He promised to be good.”

“But won’t there be like…” Yahaba pauses, “…like, some kind of dominance thing?”

“That’s not _our_ problem.” Oikawa flirts, “They get to figure that out on their own.”

Yahaba sighs, “Well…I mean, it’d be fun, but…I doubt Kyoutani would even want to go.”

“Just tell him you’re going with or without him.” Oikawa winks, “He definitely won’t let you go alone.”

“That sounds manipulative.”

“Maybe just _little~.”_

Yahaba laughs, and sags his shoulders in defeat, “Alright, alright. I’ll _ask._ ”

“Yay!” Oikawa grins, “Alright, now I’ve got all this paperwork that needs to be filled out so-“

“Ahh,” Yahaba laughs, "and here’s the _real_ reason you called me here.”

“It’s just a few stacks!” Oikawa wiggles, “Nothing you can’t handle.”

“Fine,” Yahaba smiles, “I’ll work on it now.”

Oikawa clicks his tongue and thrusts his fingers up in a finger pistol, “You’re the best.” 

* * *

Yahaba tangles his fingers in soft dog fur. He brushes down Kyoutani's spine, dragging his nails along the way. Kyoutani is asleep, or at least, he appears to be, his head resting on his paws. The grass beneath them is slightly damp, but it's fine. Yahaba doesn't care too much for these jeans anyways. 

Yahaba scratches underneath dog ears, and smiles when he sees his tail wag. 

The park is quite lively today; dogs run around with their owners, and children play in the sandlot. Yahaba enjoys the park- and even more so with Kyoutani-  _but,_ he's got an ulterior motive. He hopes to put Kyoutani in a good mood, as to ask him about dinner at Oikawa's. 

There's some distant barking, and the sound of birds. 

Kyoutani's ears perk up, flicking this way and that. Yahaba slides his fingers down the black lines that stretch from his eyes, to his tail,  and lets go when Kyoutani lifts his head. He blinks, staring at something off in the distance. 

The loud dog barks some more, and Kyoutani barks back, low, and strong. 

Yahaba laughs, and wraps his hands around his knees. "Oh, you tell 'em." 

Kyoutani turns his head and glares the best he can. Yahaba laughs again, his head tipped back, and his shoulders shaking. Kyoutani gives a little  _'boof'_ sound, and Yahaba hides his giggles behind his hand. 

"Oh? What is it boy? Little Timmy is stuck in a well?" 

Kyoutani growls a little, and Yahaba's chest begins to hurt from laughing. Kyoutani rises to his feet, and lifts his head, jumping to lick Yahaba's face. 

"Ew! Gross!" Yahaba laughs, and tries pushing him off- but Kyoutani isn't a small dog. He steps over his lap, fighting Yahaba's arms to slober across Yahaba's cheek. "Stop, stop!" Yahaba laughs, and finally shoves him back. Kyoutani manages to look smug, and prances around, not sure if Yahaba dares to fight back. 

"You're disgusting." Yahaba smiles, and wipes his cheek with his sleeve. There's this old lady nereby that's giving Yahaba a strange look, but he couldn't care less. Kyoutani wags his tail, and slides up to Yahaba's hand, rubbing the top of his head against his palm. 

* * *

“No.”

“Kentarou-”

“No.” Kyoutani crosses his arms, “No way.”

“Please.” Yahaba sighs, “I thought we agreed to,” he waves his hand around, “you know, try and be more understand of each other.”

Kyoutani looks down at the floor- a sign of submission. Yahaba sighs, and slides up to him, his arms slithering around his back.

“Please? Oikawa is really nice.” He presses his face into Kyoutani’s shoulder, “And I’ve never met Iwaizumi as a human. It was kind of them to invite us over, and I think it’d be rude to say no.”

Kyoutani is silent. He slowly, _slowly_ relaxes in Yahaba’s arms, and reaches around to hug him back.

“Iwaizumi has agreed to meet you too.” Yahaba continues, swaying a little bit in his arms, “He’s not going to try anything funny.”

He’s met with more silence- until Kyoutani sighs, and presses a kiss against Yahaba’s hair, “Fine.”

“Yay!” Yahaba grins, and squeezes him harder, “Thank you!”

“I’m only going for the free food.” Kyoutani leans back, eyes soft, and joking, “Not because I want to make you happy or anything.”

Yahaba laughs, rocking on his heels, “Oh no, you wouldn’t want _that._ ”

Kyoutani laughs too, and swoops in to kiss him.

* * *

They stand at the front of Oikawa’s home. It’s on a small lot, but has a nice curbside appeal. The grass is neatly trimmed, and the walkway is free of leaves and dirt. 

Yahaba can feel Kyoutani’s unease radiate through his hand. Yahaba squeezes his fingers, and waits for him to make eye contact. Kyoutani looks up, and Yahaba smiles, “Thanks again for doing this.”

“Whatever.” Kyoutani spits, but there’s no fire in his eyes, or venom on his tongue.

Yahaba lets go of his hand, and knocks on the door- he doesn’t have to wait long for an answer. The door swings open; there's a tall, tan man standing in a sleeveless shirt, and dark jeans. He smiles, friendly, and very cute. "Hello!" 

Kyoutani’s entire body tenses up, and Yahaba immediately knows that this man is Iwaizumi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> swigggity swooty kyou got the booty


	5. Chapter 5

“Shigeru.” Iwaizumi smiles, extending out his hand, “How are you?”

“Good!” Yahaba smiles back, and shakes his hand, “It’s nice to meet you, you know, in person.”

He’s roughly the same height of Yahaba, but Iwaizumi is built sturdy and strong, like an unmoving rock. He seems to radiate raw authority, just as Kyoutani does.

“Likewise.” Iwaizumi grins. He turns to Kyoutani, and nods his hello. Yahaba waits for them to shake hands, but Iwaizumi drops his arm back down. They don’t move; they just stare at each other, silent for a moment. Unease flows from Kyoutani in thick waves, his eyes narrowed down to his usual glare.

“Say hello.” Yahaba elbows him.

“Hi.” Kyoutani grits out, and Yahaba sighs. 

God, talk about fucking tension. Kyoutani and Iwaizumi just stare, speaking without words. 

Maybe this was a bad idea.

There’s a distant ring of “ _Yahaba!!"_

Thank goodness.

Iwaizumi knowingly steps to the side, and lets Oikawa bounce in. “You’re here!”

“We made it.” Yahaba laughs, and leans in for a hug. Kyoutani is silent.

Oikawa shifts back on his heels, and turns to Kyoutani, “Hello! Come on in.”

Yahaba and Kyoutani toe off their shoes, glancing around Oikawa’s home. The walls are a calm tan color; it gives off a homey sense. It also smells fairly good- like incense, or candles.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Oikawa grins, and reaches out to shake Kyoutani’s hand. “I’ve heard so much.”

“You have?” Kyoutani smirks, and accepts Oikawa’s handshake.

“Ohhh yes.” Oikawa purrs, “You’re just as cute as he said you we-“

“Alright, that’s enough.” Yahaba butts in, “Do you need help with dinner?”

“Oh!” Oikawa’s back straightens, “Fuck, my pizza-“

Iwaizumi breathes out a laugh through his nose, and watches Oikawa flee back into the kitchen.

Yahaba shakes his head, smiling, “I’ll go help him.” He turns to Kyoutani, “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Kyotuani waves him off, “Go do your thing.”

Yahaba nods, and waddles into the kitchen. His heart is beating stupid fast, for some reason.

Oikawa’s kitchen is clean, and nice, despite the man running around, pulling a few things out of the oven.

Yahaba smiles, “It smells good in here.”

“Thank you, I made it from scratch.” Oikawa grins.

“Sorry I didn’t bring anything.”

“Oh no,” the sergeant replies, “I’m just happy you made it here in one piece.” 

Yahaba smiles, and walks to the sink to wash his hands, “Barely.”

Oikawa snorts, and sets the homemade pizza down on the counter to cool. “Did you leave those two alone in there?”

“Yeah.” Yahaba rolls his eyes, “The tension is worse than I thought.”

“Heh.” Oikawa grins, “Don’t worry, they’ll get over it.”

“We’ll see.”  Yahaba blinks, “Do you need help?”

“Nah, I’ve pretty much got it handled…but…here-“ He picks up a bowl full of salad, “Set this on the table for me.”

“Okay.” Yahaba smiles, and takes it from him.

When he does walk back to the dining room, he’s completely surprised to see Kyoutani with his back against the wall, and his hands balled up at his sides. Iwaizumi is just a hare taller than him, pressed close, their noses almost touching.  Iwaizumi’s strong arms trap him against the wall, braced by Kyoutani’s head. They’re not saying anything- just staring at each other, breathing in the same air. It’s almost…intimate, but not.  Yahaba’s heart stops, in a  panic- _Are they fighting?_

Yahaba holds his breath; they haven’t noticed him yet.

Iwaizumi tips his head a little bit, staring Kyoutani in the eye, back straight, muscles tight. Kyoutani is doing the same- his glare is meaner, but his posture isn’t as strong as Iwaizumi’s.

It takes Yahaba a moment to understand: they’re sizing each other up, deciding who’s the top dog.

Iwaizumi tips his head down, and Yahaba watches Kyoutani almost…relax. Iwaizumi presses his nose into Kyoutani’s shoulder.

The room feels hot. Yahaba isn’t sure what he’s watching.

It feels like years, but it happens in only a few moments- Iwaizumi takes a step back with a nod. Kyoutani relaxes, a hand raising to run through his own hair.

Yahaba decides that now is the best time to pretend to re-enter the room. He plops the salad on the table, and ignores the glances from them both. 

“So,” Yahaba begins, breaking the silence with his chirpy tone, “Iwaizumi, how long have you been dating-”

“Wait!” Oikawa jumps in, the pizza on a big plate, “Hold awkward the small talk, the food is done.”

Kyoutani lets out a little laugh at that, and it makes Yahaba feel more at ease.

“Alright alright.” Oikawa grins, “Let’s eat.”

* * *

 

Yahaba has his face in his hands, groaning loudly as the other three laugh, and laugh.

“I had no idea, okay!”

“It’s fine.” Iwaizumi smiles, “There was no way you could have known. The notion was nice, anyways.”

“Ughhhh.” Yahaba groans, “Just kill me, Kyoutani.”

Kyoutani doesn’t respond, instead raising his glass to hide his smile behind it.

“Oh man.” Oikawa wipes away a tear. “Too funny.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Yahaba lowers his fingers, “You know, something along the lines of _hey, buddy, my dog isn’t actually a dog, so please don’t feed him over processed garbage. Thanks.”_

“Because,” Oikawa laughs, “We can’t let a lot of people know.”

“Do you always stay as a dog then?” Kyoutani asks, slowly. Yahaba is happy to hear him participating in the conversation.

“At work?” Iwaizumi tips his head, like Kyoutani does sometimes, “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Well…” Iwaizumi wrinkles up his nose, “First there’s the hassle of changing in and out of clothes.”

“But mostly,” Oikawa interrupts, “he can’t shift into a person at work, because he’s not a police _man,_ he’s a police _dog._ He’s been through dog training, not human training.”

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi nods, “I’m not certified to shoot a gun, or anything.”

“Huh.” Yahaba blinks twice, “Well, you still could’ve stopped me! God, you just _watched_ me feed Iwaizumi dog treats.”

“Because it was funny as hell!” Oikawa laughs, and laughs harder when Iwaizumi kicks him underneath the table.

Oikawa cackles, hunched forwards, almost dragging his hair into his food. There’s a loud thump- the noise of Oikawa hitting his knee on the table. He yelps, and his hands shoot down to grab the wound.

“Haha, idiot.” Iwaizumi laughs, a half-eaten slice of pizza in his hand.

“Ow, ow.” Oikawa is still hiccuping from laughter, and wiggling out of pain.

“Karma is a bitch, sarg.” Yahaba smiles, already feeling so much better.

There’s more laughter, and finally, Yahaba can relax.

* * *

 

“Kyoutani!” Oikawa coos, after dinner, “Do you mind helping me scrub dishes?”

“Not at all.” Kyoutani says, rising from his chair.

Yahaba stares after them, incredibly suspicious, but happy with Kyoutani’s politeness nonetheless.

“So how has it been?” Iwaizumi begins, directing Yahaba’s attention else ware,  “Dating a shifter?”

“Oh.” Yahaba laughs, “It’s been different, but I like it.”

“That’s good.” Iwaizumi smiles, collecting more dirty dishes, “Is there anything you’d like to know? About dog shifters?”

Yahaba blinks, stupidly, before he says, “That’s…that’s very kind of you to offer.”

Iwaizumi shrugs, “Kyoutani seems fairly reserved. I’m sure you have questions.”

“I…I have a few.” Yahaba swallows. _Most I’d rather have Kyoutani answer…but…_ He does have one thing on his mind.

“Is it…is it typical for a dog shifter to leave their family?”

Iwaizumi pauses, and sets down the dirty plates down on the table, “What do you mean?”

“All I know is that he ran away.” Yahaba replies, low, hopefully unheard by Kyoutani, “Is that a normal thing?”

Iwaizumi scratches behind his ear, “Um…not normally. Unless he was born to a normal family.”

“That’s…that’s possible?”

“It’s rare, but it happens.” Iwaizumi shrugs, and picks the dishes back up, “Other than that, most dog shifters are extremely loyal to their family.”

“Huh,” Yahaba breathes, “Well-“

Suddenly there’s laughter from the kitchen, and Iwaizumi’s back goes rigid, probably out of instinctual protectiveness.

Oikawa’s laugh is contagious; Yahaba grins, as he calls,  “You guys having fun in there?”

There’s more laughter from Oikawa, “Dude, your boyfriend just caught a fly out of mid-air. Yahaba-“ he laughs, “-your boyfriend is fuckin’ Jackie Chan.”

Yahaba and Iwaizumi stare, dumbly, before they laugh, gathering the rest of the dishes, and bringing them into the kitchen as well.

* * *

 

Yahaba runs his fingers through Kyoutani’s hair. It’s warm, here in their bed, shuffled close together. He leans down to press a kiss against Kyoutani’s forehead, mumbling, “Thank you for coming today.”

“Mmm.” Kyoutani hums. His callused fingers drag up and down his back, rubbing soft, smooth circles into Yahaba’s skin. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“You looked like you were having fun.” 

“It….it was fine.”

Yahaba laughs, softly, and brings a hand up to play behind Kyoutani’s ear. It’s silent, except for the crickets that sing outside the walls.

Yahaba softly trails his thumb across the stud in Kyoutani’s ear. He mumbles, his heart beating slightly faster, “You seemed to get along with Iwaizumi.”

“Mm.”

“I uh,” Yahaba breathes, “I saw…whatever that was…you guys did.”

Kyoutani tenses a little, “Oh?”

Yahaba sighs, “Yeah…um…what…”

“I was succeeding.” Kyoutani states, blatantly.

“Like…?”

“Recognizing him as the stronger one.” Kyoutani mumbles, hesitantly, “He’s older. And um. Definitely stronger.”

Yahaba digs his nails into his hair, softly, “How did you know?”

 “I could feel it.” Kyoutani says, “It’s…hard to explain.”

“Okay.” Yahaba nods, and shuffles a little closer to kiss him, lightly, on the corner of his mouth, “I’m just happy you two got along.”

Kyoutani gives a half smile, and sits up on his forearms to kiss Yahaba properly.

* * *

 Another day of work, another bust, another wave of frustration. 

Yahaba sighs, and kicks over the empty suitcase. They were made fools. 

Oikawa rounds the corner, dog Iwaizumi at his side, police vest and all. He sighs, shaking his head, "They got away." 

Iwaizumi gives a little nod, and sniffs along the ground, just to double check. 

"Great." Yahaba grumbles. 

Watari sighs, "Do we know where they might've gone?" 

"No idea." Oikawa looks around the alleyway, "But Kenma is working on a lead back at HQ. For now, all we can do is secure the area for forensics." 

"Is it even worth bringing forensics in?" 

"That was a lot of fuckin' cocaine." Oikawa crosses his arms, "It'd be good if we could match some fingerprints." 

"Gotcha." Watari nods, and elbows Yahaba, "Come on, bud. Let's go." 

"On it." Yahaba lowers his gun down by his thighs, and follows. He ignores the annoying guilt bubbling in his stomach, thoughts of  _maybe, maybe, maybe- maybe if i was faster, maybe if I was smarter-_

But Watari has worked with him for years- he's learned him well. He smacks Yahaba on the back, hard, and grins, "Hey, cheer up. We'll get the next one." 

"Yeah, okay." Yahaba smiles, and gives him a pat back. 

 

* * *

 

Yahaba comes home from the gym, only to see a little post-it note on the countertop; scribbled in Kyoutani’s handwriting is  _be back later._

Yahaba had shrugged it off, and went about his evening as he would. He finishes laundry and gets a head start on dinner, humming to the radio turned on low.  

When the door opens, and slides shut with a click, Yahaba turns, a smile on his face, “Hey, welcome back.”

“Hey.” Kyoutani answers, “Smells good in here.”

Yahaba feels his mouth go completely dry.

Kyoutani is in a suit.

A _suit?!_

A really nice, tailored, skinny panted, tight fitting grey suit.

Wait.

“Is that mine?” Yahaba blinks, and watches Kyoutani shrug off the jacket.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry.” Kyoutani loosens his tie, which is probably the sexiest thing Yahaba has ever seen in his life. “My boss called me in for a formal meeting, or whatever. I saw it in your closet and took it.”

Yahaba turns back to his cutting board, in an attempt to gain back his self-control. Yahaba pretends that he’s _not_ internally screaming, and says,  “Oh, no worries. But uh, why did you have to dress up?”

Kyoutani’s voice moves around behind him- Yahaba hears a shoe fall to the ground, “He wanted to talk about a raise.”

Yahaba sets down his knife, and turns, “No way!”

“Yeah.” Kyoutani smiles, and toes off his other shoe. “It’s not by much, but…”

“That’s awesome!” Yahaba gives a grin, trying to mask the way his eyes are clouding over. _Fuck_ Kyoutani looks good. The pants fit him so well- and the shirt is a little too snug, his firm biceps visible under the white fabric. Kyoutani starts to roll up his sleeves, and _son of a bitch-_ Yahaba has to turn back around,  and hide his voice with, “We should celebrate tonight! We can probably bust out some wine. It should taste good with this recipe my mom sent me.”

“Oh yeah?” Kyoutani’s voice rumbles low, and Yahaba swallows. This is making him hard, and Yahaba kind of wants to climb inside the oven and turn up the heat- maybe _that_ would hide his blush.

He slides the chicken off the cutting board, and into a casserole pan. He reaches for his bowl of hand-made sweet sauce. He pours it over the chicken, and talks to cover up his nervousness, “Y-yeah, it’s called Hawaiian chicken. My mom used to make it a lot as a kid-“

The room feels hot. Fuck. Dammit. Damn Yahaba and his libido and his weakness for well-dressed men.

He leans down, and places the pan in the oven, swallowing, “I just hope I made it right.”

There’s a hum behind him. It’s sounds distant; good. Kyoutani can’t see what a fucking mess he is. Yahaba stands back up, and moves to the sink to wash his hands.

Warm fingers slide around his waist suddenly,  and dip down past his navel. Yahaba yelps, his back pushing against a strong chest. Kyoutani’s right hand glides down, not even hesitating to palm Yahaba through his jeans, and yep- Yahaba's resolve just flew out the metaphorical fucking window. 

Yahaba sucks in a sharp breath, and gasps out, hands shooting forwards to turn off the water, “Kentarou-“

Kyoutani hums, and rests his chin on Yahaba’s shoulder. He gropes him again, his thumb running along the outline of his erection.

Yahaba lets out a shaky laugh, and grips the edge of the countertop, “Right. Of course.”

“Nn?”

“I can’t hide anything from you.” Yahaba rocks forwards into Kyoutani’s hand. “Damn you, and your nose.”

“Hmm…” Kyoutani leans back, and presses his nose into Yahaba’s hair, “Don’t hide _this_ from me.” He squeezes Yahaba’s hardon once more.

“Horn-dog.”

“You’re one to talk.” Kyoutani replies, and slides his hand up to unbutton Yahaba’s jeans, “What’s got you like this, anyways?”

“You.” Yahaba shivers, truthfully, “You and that fucking suit. _God._ ”

Yahaba can _feel_ the cogs churning in Kyoutani’s head, as he turns him around, and forces Yahaba to look at him.

And _fuck_ does Yahaba look at him. The first three buttons of his shirt are undone, and his shirt is half- untucked, showing off the jut of his hip where the shirt cuts into a valley.

Yahaba breathes out through his nose, and brings his hands up to yank out the shirt all the way, pushing up and underneath to graze his nails against Kyoutani’s warm sides. Yahaba’s dick twitches so hard, he worries that it might jump out of his goddamn pants.  

Kyoutani, surprisingly, gives a little groan and leans forwards, pressing Yahaba back against the counter. He brushes his nose against Yahaba’s ear, and lets out a hard breath. "Christ." 

“What?” Yahaba mumbles.

“You smell absolutely _obscene._ What the hell, Yahaba.”

Yahaba huffs out a laugh, “Sorry.” He presses his fingertips into Kyoutani’s strong stomach, and shivers when Kyoutani nips at his ear.

“How long?”

“What?”

“Until that timer goes off.” Kyoutani points to the oven.

“Uhh.” Yahaba blinks away raw arousal, “Like, thirty minutes.”

“Sounds good to me.” Kyoutani growls, and reaches around to lift Yahaba up underneath his thighs.

Yahaba lets out a gasp, and his hands reach out to grip Kyoutani’s shoulders, “ _Kentarou-_ “

Strong arms hold him up as if he weighs nothing- even as he crosses the short distance towards the couch. Kyoutani drops Yahaba down, and spins him, pushing hard at his upper back, and bending him over the back of the couch. Kyoutani is totally manhandling him, and it’s turning Yahaba on more than he’d like to admit.

Kyoutani’s hands, slide up his back, gathering his t-shirt around his wrists. He hums, “What do you want, Yahaba?”

“Do you really want to know?” He gives a half laugh, and leans up to let Kyoutani pull off his shirt completely. The shifter tosses Yahaba’s shirt to the floor, and moves to press his mouth between Yahaba’s shoulder blades.

“Yes.”  

“I want you to fuck me in that suit,” Yahaba states, leaning down just a little to grip the back of the couch, “I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow.”

“God.” Kyoutani says against his skin, “You’ve got a dirty fucking mouth.”

“Shut me up, then.” Yahaba retorts, and that’s exactly what Kyoutani does. He leans up, and grips the back of Yahaba’s hair, hard. He pulls his head back at an awkward angle, and forces Yahaba to kiss him, loud, and wet. Yahaba breathes out through his nose, and lets Kyoutani dig his fingers into his loose jeans to yank them down. The fabric pools at his ankles, and Yahaba kicks it off, now shamelessly naked in his livingroom. He peeks open an eye, and thanks his lucky stars that the curtains are pulled over the windows.

Their kisses are sloppy and disorganized, but they haven’t had sex in weeks and Yahaba is actually dying.

He feels Kyoutani grind against his ass, the suit pants rubbing against bare skin, his cock already hard- and  _god_ Yahaba wants that in him right now  _right now right now-_

Kyoutani’s callused hands drag down Yahaba’s spine, and around his ass. He squeezes whatever he can get his fingers on, making his mark. Yahaba bites down on Kyoutani’s bottom lip, and the latter doesn’t even flinch.

Instead he pulls back forcefully, and licks at the blood on his lips. He kicks apart Yahaba’s thighs, and forces him to bend back over again. Yahaba lets out a little _ooh_ sound, as his dick drags against the couch. The shifter reaches towards the bottle of lotion that sits on the couch side table, by a tube of chap stick, and the T.V. remote.

Yahaba is _vibrating_ with excitement, lightly shaking, his smirk wide. He feels Kyoutani prod for his hand, and Yahaba lets him take it. He feels smooth lotion being pressed into his fingers, and he sucks in a breath- Kyoutani guides Yahaba’s hand down, and around his ass.

Kyoutani falls to his knees, gracefully. He guides Yahaba’s fingers downwards, and mouths at the flesh of his upper thighs. “Fuck yourself.”

“Gladly.” Yahaba chokes, and slides a finger in- the lotion isn’t as great as lube, but it does the job good enough to not hurt.

“You stay here.” Kyoutani nips at his ass, before rising to his feet, “You better not fuckin’ move.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Yahaba pants, mildly embarrassed at the pitch of his voice.

There’s the soft thud of footsteps on the wood stairs, and Yahaba lets out a long, drawn out groan into the back of the couch pillows.

He tries to add another finger- but the stretch is too hard. The lotion is way too far, so Yahaba continues with his middle finger. His fingers are _just_ too short, and the angle is _just_ too wrong- he groans from frustration. His cock is digging into the couch, almost painfully- he has half a mind to worry about stains, but, whatever. It’s an old couch.

Yahaba feels footsteps again, and heat at his back once more.

Suddenly, there’s another finger, wet, and soft, sliding against his own, and Yahaba fucking _sobs._

 _“God-”_ Yahaba’s eyes about roll back in his head, “Fuckin-“

There’s the sound of more lube, and Kyoutani adds a second finger- Yahaba’s wrist is beginning to ache, so he pulls back, bracing his hand back against the couch.

“Beautiful.” Kyoutani praises, and twists his fingers skillfully. “What’s that timer say?”

“Twenty minutes.” Yahaba pants. He’s been counting.

“Good.” Kyoutani growls, falling down to kiss his spine, “I’ll make you come in ten.”

“ _Fuck._ ” Yahaba chokes, “Fuck, fuck-“

Kyoutani presses his fingers in hard, wiggling around until he finds what he wants- and Yahaba keens, his socks slippery against the floor as they slide in search of leverage. Kyoutani’s left hand comes down to press against his thigh, and halfway hold up his weight. His body is running hot- he can feel sweat forming at his forehead, and his back.

Kyoutani leans in to lick a long stripe from the middle of his back, to his neck, tasting salt and skin.

“Heh.” Yahaba smiles- and he really shouldn’t ruin the mood like this, but he almost can’t help it- “Good boy.”

Kyoutani freezes.

Yahaba counts to ten, before he feels fingers slide out of his ass, and brace up against his hips. He counts to _two,_ before Kyoutani slams in all the way, no hesitation, and no resistance.

“ _Hhhggggh-“_ Yahaba bites down, but the noise rumbles in his throat. His body goes slack; he about falls, but Kyoutani holds him up, and forces his face down into the back of the couch pillows. Yahaba’s hands fall back- he pats around, feeling, prodding-

“ _Fuck yeah-_ “ Yahaba chokes out. Kyoutani is still wearing the suit, the pants pushed halfway down his ass, the shirt unbuttoned, and rolled up on his arms. “Fuck. _Yeah._ ”

“Shut up.” Kyoutani presses his left hand up at the top of Yahaba’s back, and pulls his hips back, only to slam back in. “ _God-_ “

Yahaba lets out a painful moan- _shit_ it burns- but Kyoutani adds more lube, and suddenly everything feels great again.

Kyoutani pulls back on Yahaba’s hips, slamming into him with brute force and bruising fingers. Their skin slaps together, and Yahaba’s filter falls to pieces.

“ _Yes,_ yes yes-“ Yahaba’s socks slide, and he tries to fuck back against him, “ _Kentarou.”_

Yahaba is stupid hard, but is good, and keeps his hands on the couch. Kyoutani dips his fingers into the valley of Yahaba’s slender hip bones, fingertips prodding through more soft skin; Kyoutani lets out a low moan, raspy, and deep. It sounds _so_ good, so _so so good-_

Yahaba, again, has lost control of his salivary glands, and he drools into the couch. He whines, and digs his nails into the cushions. He wants, he wants, he wants-

Yahaba doesn’t say a thing, but Kyoutani already knows. Kyoutani’s hand leaves his hip, and comes forwards to wrap loosely around Yahaba’s cock. His hand is still slick with lube, and it feels fan-fucking-tastic.

Yahaba’s head falls forwards, the back of his sweaty neck curving like a bow. With every thrust, Yahaba’s body falls forwards, and into Kyoutani’s hand. It’s a rhythm, a dance- an incredibly hot dance that makes Yahaba’s thighs shake, and his voce go raw.

God bless his neighbors.

Kyoutani’s cock suddenly slides _just_ right, and Yahaba nearly passes out. He has no idea what he says, or what he does, but he just _feels-_ he feels his body shake and tremble and he sees his vision go blotchy.

Yahaba yearns for this; for calloused hands and deep voices and Kyoutani _Kyoutani_ -

“Kyou, _Kyou-“_ He pants, “Kentarou-“ Yahaba drops his weight onto his left shoulder, and uses his right hand to slap back at him, “Stop, stop-“

Kyoutani slows, his hand slowly squeezing at Yahaba’s base. “You okay?”

Not really, no. He’s about _two_ seconds from completely losing it, and he can hardly stand. His chest rises and falls, heavily, “Flip me. Flip me.”

Kyoutani nods against his neck, and pulls back, and out of Yahaba.  He turns him around- and _fuck._ Fuck, okay. Okay. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.

Kyoutani is _completely_ disheveled, his face flushed, his unbuttoned shirt sticking to his chest, his tight dress pants halfway down his ass.

Yahaba stares at him, and lets out a really long, overly dramatic groan. Kyoutani breathes out a laugh through his nose, and lifts Yahaba onto the back of the couch. Yahaba spreads his legs, and braces his shaky hands on Kyoutani’s shoulders.

The shifter slides into him once more, but this time Yahaba gets to watch his face- he gets to see his eyes flutter shut and his chest rise and his hands brace on the couch beside Yahaba’s thighs. 

"God." Kyoutani huffs, buried balls deep, the angle different now- "You feel amazing."

Yahaba laughs, shakily, "You too." 

They have to be careful- there isn’t much space for Yahaba to sit, so Kyoutani will have to hold Yahaba up, mostly. Kyoutani drags his hips back, just as Yahaba leans down to kiss him, loud, and wet.  Kyoutani growls against his lips, “What’s that timer say?”

Yahaba licks into his mouth, “Twelve.”

“I got two minutes then.” Kyoutani smiles, and slams his hips up.

Yahaba sees stars.

“Haaaa-“ Yahaba gasps, and shivers, holding on the best he can. Kyoutani kisses him and kisses him- stealing his soul through his tongue. Yahaba can’t kiss back, he’s too busy digging his feet into the cleft of Kyoutani’s ass, and rolling his hips into each thrust.

Fifteen seconds. Yahaba counts to fifteen, before he’s crying out, his body shaking and his nails digging into Kyoutani’s arms. His thighs squeeze around Kyoutani, and he lets out a garbled string of words, all half attempts at Kyoutani’s name.

This time, however, Kyoutani doesn’t stop fucking him- Yahaba isn’t sure if he _can._  His face is so gorgeous, sweat falling down his temple, and his shirt clinging to his back, stickily.

Yahaba falls down from his high, for just a moment, his fingers slowly unclenching, leaving little half-moons in Kyoutani’s skin. He’s made a mess between them, but he couldn’t care less; he takes in a deep breath, oversensitive, but beyond blissed out. Yahaba opens his mouth to say something dirty- to edge Kyoutani on-

But Kyoutani pushes in hard, angling his thrust just right- and Yahaba _screams._

 _“Fuck!”_ Yahaba shrieks, clawing at his arms, “Fuck! Fuck-“

Twice. Yahaba comes fucking _twice,_ this time so much more powerful than the first.

Kyoutani’s eyes widen, impossibly, as if that was the _last_ thing he expected, and he falls forwards, gasping into Yahaba’s collarbones. Yahaba almost falls backwards, and he scrambles to clutch onto the shifter, his heart beating loud in his ears.

Kyoutani groans, his hips shoving upwards just one last time, spilling into the condom- and then all is silent.

Yahaba pants. There’s a soreness in his back, and his toes are tinging. His wrists ache, and his body is warm. He feels dead- his legs are like jelly, falling off of Kyoutani’s hips, and down to the floor. Kyoutani is motionless, clinging onto Yahaba, his nose in his neck. They’re both sweaty and breathing hard.

The apartment is still.

Kyoutani mumbles, low, “Did you…”

“Yep.” Yahaba says, incredibly, and Kyoutani laughs into his shoulder.

The timer goes off.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

* * *

 

Kyoutani’s head rests in Yahaba’s lap, his arms loosely wrapped around him. Their legs squish together, Kyoutani’s pajama pants against Yahaba’s bare legs.

He turns, and presses his nose into Yahaba’s stomach; the latter giggles, frustratingly, “Hey, that tickles.”

“I know.” Kyoutani mumbles, and presses a kiss to the little squish underneath his belly button. “Dinner was good.”

“Really?” Yahaba grins, “I’m glad.”

“Mm.”

There’s some movie playing on the T.V.- something random that Kyoutani had decided on.

There’s silence, before Kyoutani speaks again, against his stomach, “Do you remember…a couple weeks ago when we went to Oikawa’s?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember when he pulled me into the kitchen to do dishes?”

“Yeah…” Yahaba blinks, his heart beating a little faster.

“We um…we weren’t doing dishes.” Kyoutani says, slowly, and Yahaba’s heart stops. His brain immediately runs wild, full of thoughts like  _he cheated, he cheated he cheated-_ but Kyoutani continues, “He offered me a job.”

“W-what?” Yahaba says, on an exhale.

“Yeah.” Kyoutani mumbles, “As a police dog.” A pause, then- “ _Your_ police dog.”

Yahaba is silent, the words floating around in his brain. He begins, “You…agreed?”

“I said I didn’t know.” Kyoutani says, and turns his head to rest his cheek against Yahaba’s bellybutton, “I wasn’t sure if you’d even want me with you at work, anyways.”

“Kentarou,” Yahaba plays with the hairs on the base of his neck, “What do _you_ want?”

Kyoutani blinks, eyelashes kissing against Yahaba’s skin. He begins, in that low, attractive voice, “I want to be with you. All the time. I’ve been trying to be less clingy, but I can’t _help_ it, I just worry so much…” He trails off. Yahaba stays silent, to let him continue. He clears his throat, “Your job is so dangerous, and I worry all the time. I can’t focus when you’re gone.”

“Kyou…” Yahaba smiles, “I’d _love_ to have you there with me. Especially if it’s what you want.”

“Really?” Kyoutani sits up, his eyes widened just a fraction.

“Yeah.” Yahaba pushes his fingers against Kyoutani’s forehead, and swipes up in a soothing motion, “I’d be really happy to work with you.”

Kyoutani smiles, and wiggles up a little, “It’s um…Oikawa said it’s a paid job, because it’s recognized by the board that I’m actually human. And- and um, he said that Iwaizumi would help me with training and-“

Yahaba laughs, and tugs him forwards, happy to press a sappy kiss against his cheek, “I’m excited.”

Kyoutani’s face lights up, and he looks years younger. He _looks_ as if a weight has been lifted off his chest, as he leans down, and presses his nose right into the crevice of Yahaba’s neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the smut was 100% self indulgent forgive me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿


	6. Chapter 6

This house is eerie, and cold. It smells musty, and it makes a chill run down Yahaba’s spine. He thinks of his own home, warm, now because of Kyoutani- he thinks  _of_ Kyoutani, just to calm his nerves.

“Go, go.” Yahaba holds his gun down by his thighs, “This area is clear.”

“I’m on it.” Watari moves swiftly, raising his gun in every doorway that they check.

Oikawa calls behind them, loudly, “We have a warrant! Come out immediately.”

Nothing.

“Fuck.” Yahaba rounds the corner, “Watari, basement.”

“I’m with you.” Watari says, and calls back, “Oikawa, we’re proceeding!”

“Careful!” Oikawa shouts, “We're checking the backyard.”

Yahaba swallows, and reaches for the doorknob. It’s unlocked, but the wood is swollen shut; Yahaba slams it open with his shoulder.

The stairs leading downwards are rotten, and cold. The room is dark- there’s no light switch. They both reach for their flashlights, and hold them against their guns, before proceeding downwards.

Yahaba’s heart is beating fast; he hopes, he  _hopes,_ please,  _please_ let them be here-

This place smells horrid. Yahaba about gags. He shines his light across the basement, the wood groaning under his feet. Watari moves his flashlight, holding his breath.

Bars. Chains. Blood stains.

Nothing.

“Dammit.” Yahaba spits, and presses his hand into his forehead, “We’re too late.”

“They took them already.” Watari sighs.

“ _Dammit._ ” Yahaba repeats again, and tries to ignore the pit in his stomach.

Oikawa calls down, “Are they down there?”

“No!” Watari shouts back, “They already moved the girls.”

“Anything in the backyard?” Yahaba asks.

“No.” Oikawa groans, “But Iwa is picking up something. They were definitely here recently.”

Yahaba closes his eyes, and resists the urge to scream.

This is one of the hardest parts of the job; being so, so close to rescuing someone, to saving  _lives-_

Only to have it taken away, this time, by gross, disgusting, human traffickers.

“Alright, well.” Watari sighs, “We’ll secure the basement, and come back up to meet you.”

“Okay.” Oikawa sighs, “We have to brief Sawamura when we get back.”

“Not looking forward to it.” Yahaba mumbles, and kicks an empty bucket by his feet.

“Come on.” Watari nudges him, his flashlight moving with the motion, “We’ll keep looking. Kenma is working extra hard to find any digital trails of them.”

“Alright.” Yahaba sniffs, and tucks his gun back in his belt. “Alright.”

 

* * *

 

You know, this started off innocently enough.

Yahaba had suggested going to the park- he needed to get his mind off things; he needed to be distracted- and for a while, he was distracted, the weight on his shoulders lessening in Kyoutani’s company. His sweet, happy bubble is popped by security, pointing to a sign that says _all dogs must be on a leash_ in big red letters.

And Yahaba, of course, isn’t one to fight the rules, as a rule enforcer himself.

So he  _happily_ bought a nice studded collar, much to Kyoutani’s horror.  

Here, at the park, a few days later, Yahaba walks with the biggest fucking grin on his face. Kyoutani patters down by his legs, scowling, if dogs could scowl, that is. Yahaba gives a little tug on the leash, and Kyoutani looks up, practically killing Yahaba with his dog eyes.

“What?!” Yahaba laughs, his arm tugging on the leash as Kyoutani falls behind, “You better get used to this, if you’re going to be a police dog.”

Kyoutani glares upwards, and huffs out through his dog nose, grudgingly following his lead.

“I’m doing this for  _you,_ you know.” Yahaba says, but that’s totally a lie. He’s enjoying this way too much.

Kyoutani takes it seriously, and pads up to Yahaba’s calf, nudging against it. Yahaba pauses, just long enough to reach down, and pet behind his ears. He gives one last tug on the leash, and Kyoutani growls softly.

Yahaba laughs once more, happy, at last.

* * *

 

“So,” Yahaba says, as he runs, “How’s training been?”

“Fine.” Kyoutani jogs on the treadmill beside him, “Iwaizumi is kinda’ helpful.”

“I’m glad.” Yahaba grins, “Is it tiring?”

“Nah.” Kyoutani pants, a towel hanging around his neck, his strong calves moving him forwards. “I don’t break a sweat, or anything.”

“What is it then?”

“Mostly picking up on scents.” Kyoutani jogs, “Knowing the difference between weed, cocaine, et cetera.”

“Ooh, gotcha.” Yahaba nods, wiping his forehead with his own towel, “Is it hard?”

“Not really.” Kyoutani shrugs, “A little degrading.”

“Oh? How so.”

“I had to know the difference between  _sit,_ and  _stay._ ”

Yahaba laughs, and grips the front of the treadmill to keep himself upright.

“That’s amazing.”

“Whatever.” Kyoutani looks away, “It’ll be worth it.”

Yahaba looks to him and smiles. He reaches over to punch his shoulder, “You big softie.”

“Shut it.” Kyoutani jokes, and Yahaba smiles back.

 

* * *

 

The collar haunts him.

 It sits there, pretty, on the bedside table,  _staring_ at Yahaba, even as Kyoutani mouths against his neck.

Kyoutani’s body is heavy above him, but he takes his time, softly licking underneath Yahaba’s chin. It’s slow, and warm, and….

Yahaba has an idea.

Kyoutani is going to  _kill him._

But Yahaba has an idea.

Kyoutani pulls down a little on the top hem of Yahaba’s shirt, delving his tongue into Yahaba’s collarbones. The latter grins, and reaches across the bed- like they do, you know, when in search of lube and condoms-

So Kyoutani doesn’t expect a light shift, and leather at his throat.

His body tenses, his back shooting straight, his eyes going impossibly wide.

Yahaba is surprisingly calm, and looks up at Kyoutani with the best smirk he can muster. He tugs the collar tight- it doesn’t restrict his air, but it presses into Kyoutani’s skin, for it is made for dogs, after all.

“What are you…” Kyoutani trails off, completely lost.

“You were a good boy today…” Yahaba looks up through his eyelashes, his grin wicked, “And a good boy will tap my thigh twice, if he wants to stop.”

Kyoutani’s jaw falls open, and his entire body shivers.

So Yahaba takes that as a yes, and kisses him once.

 

* * *

 

Nine times out of ten, it’s Kyotuani that takes control in the bedroom. Yahaba doesn’t have a problem with that; the opposite, actually. He likes feeling the weight of his muscles, and the deep tone of his voice.

But this?  _This?_

This is also something Yahaba can get behind.

“ _Damn.”_ Yahaba groans, his head falling back against the wall. There’s no good reason for him to be standing, other than to see Kyoutani on his knees, his mouth pressed against the bottom of Yahaba’s dick, licking long, wet stripes across skin. His fingers bruise into the back of Yahaba’s clothed thighs, and his body is arched, lewd, and naked.

He looks fucking  _amazing._ The collar is black, and spiked, and it fits him even better than Yahaba could have  _ever_ imagined. He looks so focused, completely enveloped in teasing Yahaba.

But it’s too slow. Yahaba needs  _fast,_ he needs to see Kyoutani drooling- he wants to see him beg-

Okay.

Yahaba might have some pent up frustrations and Yahaba   _might_ just be enjoying the power rush.

It’s fine.

Kyoutani continues to go slow, lapping at the head of Yahaba’s cock, looking up at his lover, saying nothing.

 _“Dogs don’t talk._ ” Yahaba had warned, as soon as Kyoutani had moaned Yahaba’s name- and Kyoutani remained silent since.

Lips press soft, and wet, licking kisses against his navel- and Yahaba has had enough of the teasing. He grips the leather in his hand, wraps it around his hand twice to tighten the slack, and yanks Kyoutani’s neck back, hard.

Kyoutani chokes, slightly, his head yanking up with the motion of the collar.

Oh fuck yeah.

“You can do better than that.” Yahaba says, forcing his voice steady. Kyoutani looks up at him, his eyes all spitfire and burning intensity- Yahaba feels like a beastmaster, taming those that can’t be tamed.

Kyoutani grips the back of Yahaba’s thighs, and opens his mouth, taking Yahaba halfway down in one swoop. Yahaba sighs, his head falling back once more, his hand moving down, allowing slack in the leash.

“Good boy.” Yahaba pants, and Kyoutani groans around him, his fingers bruising harder. Kyoutani’s body shivers with every praise, all lean muscle and tan skin.

Kyoutani sets a hot,  _hot_ pace: up, and down, and up, and down-

Yahaba watches his throat bob around the collar; he watches his adams apple move as he swallows around him, and Yahaba feels his knees go weak. Kyoutani’s eyes shoot up once more- he drinks in Yahaba’s face, flushed, his mouth slightly open, and he somehow manages to look smug with a cock in his mouth.

Yahaba is perfectly capable of fixing that.

When Kyoutani comes up for a breath, Yahaba tugs down on the leash, hard; he takes Kyoutani by surprise, the latter being forced to deepthroat Yahaba.

“ _Christ-_ “ Yahaba curses, but keeps an eye open for the tap on his thigh. It doesn’t come- instead, he watches Kyoutani’s eyes water. He breathes out through his nose, but stays still, just as Yahaba instructs.

Yahaba is interested- he wants to see how long he’ll stay- he wants to see just how  _loyal_ he is.

“What a good dog~.”

Kyoutani groans, his eyes squeezing shut, his cock visibly jumping against his thigh- and  _fuck_ if that isn’t hot as hell.

 Yahaba reaches down with his free hand and rakes his nails through blonde hair. His cock is nudging at the back of Kyoutani’s throat, but Yahaba tries to ignore it- tries to ignore the way Kyoutani’s tongue squirms in his mouth, because if he thinks too hard, he might lose his damn mind, right here and now.

The room is hot, and stuffy, and it makes Yahaba power-hungry.

Drool slides down Kyoutani’s lips, from the excess saliva pooling in his mouth- so he’s forced to swallow, hard, nearly choking. His throat contracts around Yahaba, and the latter lets out a sob.

“ _Fuck!”_ Yahaba gasps, and pulls back on the leash. Kyoutani’s mouth slides off him slickly, and he leans back on his knees, his chest heaving, gasping for air. Yahaba squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to wade off his orgasm.

When he does peak an eye back open, Kyoutani is staring right back at him. He’s shivering, but he’s not cold- instead he’s digging his fingers into his own thighs, his cock swollen, and hard, and completely appetizing-

But Yahaba can’t get sidetracked. He sucks in a breath to steady his heartbeat and pulls gently on the leash, bringing him back into hair-holding distance. He rakes his nails across his scalp in a soothing motion, and coos, “You’re such a good boy, such a good dog.” He curls his fingers around his right ear, “What a gorgeous dog.”

This time, Kyoutani squeezes his eyes shut, and tips his head forward to rest against the top of Yahaba’s thigh. Yahaba can see him choking back a noise, in an attempt to stay silent.

“You’d do whatever I say, wouldn’t you?” Yahaba prods, with a grin, “That’s what good dogs do.”

He feels his head nod, and Yahaba’s throat runs dry.

“Open your mouth.”

Kyoutani leans back, and does so. Yahaba tightens the slack of the leash, and lines himself up against Kyoutani’s lips.

“Stay.” Yahaba says, and slams his hips forwards.

Kyoutani gags, once, but swallows, and stays still.

 _God_ this was a great idea. Yahaba Shigeru, the master of fantastic ideas.

Kyoutani is being  _so good-_ he’s so good and gorgeous and perfect, staying still as Yahaba fucks his mouth. His hips piston, and Kyoutani gargles around him, moaning like he loves it- like he loves the praise- like he loves every noise that falls from Yahaba’s mouth.

“ _Shit,”_ Yahaba curls forwards, his back bowing, arching atop Kyoutani as he stays still, and pliant, “Kentarou-“ 

Yahaba is very rapidly driving down the road of _actual human disaster,_ his hips sporadically thrusting, and his mouth gargling nonsense.

Kyoutani drools, his hands rising up to dig into Yahaba’s ass, urging him on.

That almost,  _almost_ does Yahaba in- so he pulls tight on Kyoutani’s leash, and watches him lightly choke.

Damn, Yahaba has so many kinks he never knew of, but he can definitely add this to the fucking list.  _Fuck._ There’s something addicting about this- watching someone so possessive and dominant listen to every command Yahaba gives.

And the best thing about this? Yahaba isn’t even  _touching_ Kyoutani, but he looks like he’s about to pop, his hips squirming almost uncomfortably.

Yahaba feels so strong, so powerful- he feels, he feels-

He pulls back on the leash, and his cock slides out of Kyoutani’s mouth, lewd, and wet. The latter looks up through his eyelashes, almost disappointed, but Yahaba tugs hard, and Kyotuani chokes, his chin tipping up, forcing himself high on his knees.

“You listen to me.” Yahaba suddenly demands, leaning down so that they’re almost nose to nose. He pulls hard again, “Are you listening?”

Kyoutani looks like he’s going through all five stages of shock, but he nods, the collar moving with him.

Yahaba moves closer, and slides his hand down, gathering up the leather, until he’s holding right above the hook. He’s completely in control now, and Kyoutani is giving him his full attention.

“You say I’m yours, right?” Yahaba mumbles, low. His voice is slightly shaking from raw arousal and adrenaline, but he gets his point across, “Yes?”

Nod.

“You say I belong to you?”

Nod nod.

“Well listen up.” Yahaba states, in a swing of confidence, “You, Kentarou, are  _mine.”_

Kyoutani’s eyes widen, huge, and his mouth falls open, but Yahaba continues.

“No one else can have you like this.” Yahaba pulls tighter, almost forcing him off his knees, “Got it?”

There's a skip of silence, before Kyoutani lets out a long, choked off groan; his body tenses, bending, like a violin string as it snaps. He gasps out, his forehead digging into Yahaba’s hip, and much to Yahaba’s surprise-

He comes across his thighs, shaking, and shivering, completely untouched.

Well, that wasn’t exactly what Yahaba was expecting, but- he gives Kyoutani slack on the leash, and coos, “Good, good. I’ve got you-“ his left hand falling down to cradle the back of his head. “So good.”

Kyoutani sucks in air against his hip, and Yahaba sees sweat roll down his back. His hands stay still, even as he comes down from his sudden high.

It’s silent.

Yahaba breathes in.

“Well…that was just about the hottest thing I’ve ever seen…” Yahaba mumbles, and Kyoutani huffs a laugh against his skin. Yahaba smiles, and brings his hand to rest under his chin, tilting his head upwards, “You okay?”

No response.

Oh, what a good boy-

“You can talk now.”

“Yeah.” Kyoutani says, and it sounds  _so_ rough and dark and oh god, why did Yahaba ever think it was a good idea to keep him quiet? That was stupid. Kyoutani clears his throat, the tendons in his neck moving under the leather, “I’m fine.”

Yahaba can’t help it- he lets out a full body shiver- Kyoutani looks up, smugger than hell.

“I can talk now?”

“Yeah,” Yahaba pants, and can’t look away from Kyoutani- he can’t look away from the strong muscles that move as he dips his head down, his cheek nuzzling against his cock.

“You are fucking unreal.” Kyoutani says, low, in a purr, “So hot, fuck, Yahaba, fuck-“

“Good dog.” Yahaba pants, in a laugh, and Kyoutani grins, wide, swallowing Yahaba down once more.

And Yahaba loses himself, crying out Kyoutani’s name, letting go of the leash, the slack clattering to the floor.

* * *

 

Yahaba’s cold fingers gently- softly- tentatively- graze across the bruises on Kyoutani’s neck. They’re red, the skin worn down slightly, specks of purple scattering around the line. It’s swollen, but...oddly beautiful.

“Shit…” Yahaba grazes his thumb across the marks gently, his body limp atop Kyoutani’s, “I hurt you.”

“It didn’t hurt.” Kyoutani says, factually.

“It sure as hell looked like it did.” 

“It didn’t. I promise.”

“You promise?”

“I have a high tolerance to pain.”

Yahaba sniffs, before nodding, and resting his head on Kyoutani’s shoulder. He’s warm-always so warm. He feels arms wrap around him, and he dozes off, his mouth pressed up against the bruise.

  ~~~~

* * *

 

Yahaba feels good, for a few days. Work is going well; they stop a bank robbery, and catch a fugitive. It’s a good week.

But like always, there’s a bad day.  _Another_ bust. Another loose end. Another failure.

Yahaba sighs, his head in his hand, as he sits across from Watari and Kindaichi.

“Hey, man.” Kindaichi shrugs, “We’ll get the next one.”

“Yeah, but Kunimi got hurt.” Yahaba looks down at his drink. They’re still in uniform, waiting for Oikawa’s word in the police station office.

“He’ll be fine.” Watari nudges him, “It was just a few abrasions.”

Yahaba swallows, thickly. That frustrating feeling- it’s in his chest. He wants to go home. He wants to sit in Kyoutani’s lap, and he wants to talk about recipes and movies-

“Stop that.” Kindaichi suddenly says, waving his hand in front of Yahaba’s face, “I’m serious.”

“S-stop what?”

“You’re trying to shoulder all the blame.” Kindaichi rolls his eyes, “Again.”

“I am  _not-“_

 _“_ It’s all over your face.” Watari nudges him with his foot, “Stop stressing, you’re not alone anymore.”

Yahaba thinks of Kyoutani.

Kyoutani, who is working hard in his training to be by his side.

 _His_ police dog.

Yahaba puts on a smile, and nods, nudging Watari back.

 

* * *

 

Yahaba likes going on dates; he likes holding Kyoutani's hand, rough, calloused fingers that envelop his own. Their hands are almost made for eachother- like a lock and key- but maybe not; Yahaba is just disgustingly sappy. 

It's growing warmer as the spring chill slowly ebbs away, but Yahaba still enjoys floppy sweaters, and jeans, free from police uniforms, and the stress that follows with it. Kyoutani walks at his side, a constant, it seems, always there so sturdy and strong. Right now, he's what's holding Yahaba together- though he does it unknowingly. 

It's growing warmer, but Yahaba feels cold.  Cold from stress and heartache, and all the things Yahaba keeps alone, locked inside, tucked neatly where no one can see. 

Kyoutani is a hard worker- busting his ass to keep his job, and also train with Iwaizumi- so Yahaba will smile for him. 

Speaking of. 

“Kyou, do you think you’ll quit your old job?” Yahaba says, as they hold hands outside the movie theater.

“Mm?” Kyoutani tips his head, his beanie sliding just a little, “I’m not sure.”

“You just got a raise…” Yahaba squeezes his fingers, warm, and strong, “I’d hate for you to lose that.”

“Yeah, but the work is less exhausting,” Kyoutani shrugs, “I assume, than building houses.”

“Right…” Yahaba nods, and looks over Kyoutani once more; strong arms, wide shoulders, smooth skin- it’s so familiar, tanned by the sun, toned by his job.

“I think I’ll quit, once i'm working with you full time.”

“I’m happy if you’re happy.”

Kyoutani looks over at him- gives him a little half smile- and looks away.

 

* * *

 

 

There's another bad day at work. 

 

* * *

 

 

He’s not sure why it happens, really.

It just does.

Yahaba comes home late, closing the door behind him with a click. He takes in a short, little, shuddery breath- and Kyoutani perks up from the couch.

“Yahaba?”

“I’m home.” He says, but his voice sounds raw.

“Yahaba.” Kyoutani turns to click on the lamp, giving more light to the room. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Yahaba clears his throat, “Yeah, I’m fine. Um, busy day.”

Kyoutani blinks, before standing up, “You don’t sound-“

“Sorry, I’m just tired.” Yahaba says, abruptly, and kicks off his shoes by the front door. He shrugs off his bag- and by the time he looks up, Kyoutani is standing in front of him, arms wrapping underneath his own. It takes Yahaba by surprise, freezing beneath his fingers.

“I smell salt.”

That statement rings heavy and thick in the room. It feels weighted. It’s silent.

Yahaba’s eyes sting more, but he blinks it away, “Don’t worry about it.”

“You sure?” Kyoutani hugs him tighter, strong, and understanding- he’s changed so much, in this year. “Um...you can tell me.”

“It’s fine-“ Yahaba chokes, but his throat disobeys him. Kyoutani leans back, surprised- because Yahaba isn’t a crier. He’s never _been_ a crier- he’s always been the tough as nails princess, who is kind, but strong. 

He yanks himself out of Kyoutani's grip, hissing, "Stop, it's fine. I'm going to bed-"

A hand grips his wrist, strong fingers pressing into the tendons of his arm.

Kyoutani looks him in the eye and says one last time, “Yahaba.”

And Yahaba breaks open.

“ _Kentarou._ ” Yahaba chokes out, his face falling forwards, “ _Kentarou.”_

“What?” Kyoutani panics, and Yahaba can feel his heartbeat against his ear. There's no answer- Kyoutani presses more, “Is the squad okay? Are  _you_ okay?”

“I-I,” Yahaba tries to force back the sting in his eyes, but the tears betray him. “I-“

Kyoutani seems to panic, slightly, completely unsure of what to do. He brings a hand to rest at the back of Yahaba’s head, trying to sooth him, “One…one word at a time.”

“I…” Yahaba gasps out, “I can’t do this, Kentarou.”

“Do what?”

“I was,” Yahaba sucks in a heavy breath, gross, and wet, “I was, c-called in as backup. A…a shooting…at a bank…“

Kyoutani freezes underneath his fingers, so Yahaba says as fast as he can, “We showed up after it was o-over. The squad wasn’t hurt but…I was…I was securing the area and, t-there was this girl. Just…a-“ Yahaba’s voice keeps cracking, and he hates it, but he’s spilling over, bending and breaking, “She was just a little girl, Kentarou. She got c-caught in the crossfire. She was just a  _little girl._ ”

Kyoutani’s body melts against his own, holding him so tight that Yahaba isn’t sure where he ends, and Kyoutani begins. He lets Yahaba sob, clinging onto the back of his shirt, and yelling, “She had a whole life! An e-entire life-“

Kyoutani presses his cheek against Yahaba’s, rubbing, much like a dog would, “Yahaba…you can’t think like that.”

“If we had been there sooner-“

“Yahaba.”

“ _S-she,_ was j-just,” Yahaba shakes, his voice falling off into sickly tears.

Kyoutani is lost. He doesn’t know what to do, other than hold him tight, still by the front door.

It’s only getting worse; Yahaba babbles and sobs, shaking, his eyes screwing shut, forced by tears.

Yahaba wants to stop; he wants to stop everything- the crying, the pit in his chest- but he can't. He can only twist Kyoutani's shirt in his fingers, and sob.

Kyoutani is still clueless, still unsure- Yahaba is still a mess.

So Kyotuani swallows; he leans down, and grabs Yahaba by the bottom of his thighs. He lifts him effortlessly, like a princess, and Yahaba lets out a gasp.

“Hold on.” Kyoutani says sternly, and moves to their bedroom.

Yahaba clings onto his arms, hiccupping still, as he’s placed on the bed, and pulled onto Kyoutani’s chest.

Now on soft sheets, Yahaba is free to reach across to their box of tissues, and wipe his face.

“I’m the worst.” Yahaba shakes, and shakes, “ _I’m the worst cop-“_

“Stop that.” Kyoutani spits, his hands resting at the bottom of Yahaba’s spine, “You’re not-“

“I am!” Yahaba yells, his hands pressing against his face, “It’s all become so  _hard_ Kyoutani. Every f-fuck up feels like it’s my fault. Every family that loses a child- every criminal that gets away- it’s all on  _me.”_

Kyoutani has given up fighting- instead he chooses to listen. He lets Yahaba sob out-

“It’s hell. It’s hell, and I’m dragging  _you_ into it, worst of all. I can’t, I can’t  _do this anymore._ ” Yahaba’s entire body shakes, grief and pain soaking through his bones, and out of his ugly tears. He hasn’t cried in so long- and now its crashing over, like an overfilled cup. The words aren’t even his own; the child of hatred and sickness.

It’s silent, except for Yahaba's shaky inhales and his tiny hiccups and his sniffles. Kyoutani’s hands are a constant; they move in small circles, tracing the skin of Yahaba’s back as he cries.

Kyoutani opens his mouth, as if to say something, but he closes it again.

Yahaba doesn’t stop crying, and Kyoutani doesn’t  _try_ to stop him- Yahaba needs to let this out, babble out all the insecurities he’s secretly harbored.

Then, out of nowhere, Kyoutani’s voice rumbles below him. Yahaba can feel his chest vibrate, the words forming in his throat:

“Do you want to know why I love you?”

The world goes still. Time stops, here, in their bedroom, where the moon is high and the sheets are low and Yahaba’s tear tracks run across his cheeks.

He tenses, jolting up in Kyoutani’s arms to look him in the eye- Kyoutani looks determined, his back resting against the headboard, his arms just as strong as ever around Yahaba’s back. Yahaba can’t form an answer, his voice is wrecked, and he’s in shock- completely-

_Love._

An unspoken word, until now.

Yahaba still hasn’t responded, so Kyoutani brings up a hand to thumb away at the water on his cheeks.

“You don’t need me.” Kyoutani states, matter-of-fact. Yahaba’s mouth falls open, but Kyoutani swipes against the corner of his lips, “I love you because you’ve  _never_ needed me.”

“W-what are you-“

“You’re so damn strong, Yahaba.” He says, his thumb brushing past his ears. Yahaba’s tears are slowing, now just red eyes, and hiccups left in their wake. Kyoutani swallows, “I could walk out the fuckin’ door right now, and you wouldn’t need me.”

Yahaba spits, “That’s not true-“

“You  _will_ get past this.” Kyoutani stares, past Yahaba’s eyes, and into the windows of his soul- he sees his genetic makeup, the blood in his veins. His voice rumbles with authority, “You’ll pick yourself back up, whether I’m here or not, because that’s who  _you_ are.”

They've never done anything like this before; they've never peeled away at their skin, revealing the raw emotions that harbor inside. 

Metaphorical cotton balls clog Yahaba’s throat; they soak in any moisture, choking him, as his head falls forwards to rest in Kyoutani’s shoulder. Kyoutani’s hands press into his back, and Yahaba thinks, vaguely, that this might be the most he’s ever heard Kyoutani talk.

“You love your job Yahaba.”

“I can’t-”

“You  _love_ it.” Kyoutani states, “I’ve seen it. I’ve seen you come home telling me about the old lady you rescued or the fireman you became friends with or the dog you pulled off the freeway. You love it.”

Yahaba shakes, all out of tears, but his chest heavy. He feels sick, bearing himself raw like this. Kyoutani doesn’t deserve this- he doesn’t deserve to put up with Yahaba’s stupid mental breakdown. He wants to claw out his eyes- he wants to destroy these stupid things that cry.

But Kyoutani is giving him this look; this look like he  _believes_ in him.

So he manages to say, slowly, “I…I know.”

Kyoutani mumbles, one last thing, nudging Yahaba up to kiss against his temple, “Let me support you.”

And Yahaba falls, in more ways than one. He moves forward, his mouth pressing against Kyoutani’s. The shifter melts into him, taking him in, holding him. This kiss isn’t passionate, or heated.

It’s  _supportive._ It’s trusting. It’s a covenant- a two-way promise.

Yahaba pulls back, with a half laugh, rubbing at his red eyes with his hand, “I love you.”

“I know.” Kyoutani says, and kisses him once more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i figured it was too much of a missed opportunity to not have leash sex im sorry
> 
> *wiggles* at least there was fluff


	7. Chapter 7

Yahaba stands, his back rigid, and his gun between his hands. Watari is at his left, and Oikawa at his right.

This wasn’t exactly what Yahaba had planned for Kyoutani’s first day on the job; he was hoping maybe a few traffic stops, and a few drug sweeps at some schools- they weren’t expecting something like this, where they stand outside a crackhouse, their guns pointed at the door.

Kyoutani and Iwaizumi stand together, growling, and barking, but don’t move, until told to.

“Come out, immediately.” Oikawa calls, “You have one last chance, or we’ll release the dogs.”

Kyoutani and Iwaizumi snarl, and it’s _incredibly_ intimidating; but Kyoutani is doing good, standing by Yahaba’s side.

“ _You have ten seconds!”_ Oikawa’s hands don’t waver on the gun, and neither do Yahaba’s.

For once, Yahaba doesn’t feel that sickly fear creeping up his neck; he just feels Kyoutani at his side, and his _friends_ around him.

There’s a call of, “Okay! Okay! We’re coming out!”

“Hands behind your head!” Oikawa calls, and the door opens. Kyoutani and Iwaizumi continue to bark, until the dealers fall to their knees.

“Don’t move.”

 Oikawa and Watari creep closer, their guns still pointed, but lowering as they see them surrender peacefully. Watari reads their rights, and Oikawa cuffs them.

“Good job.” Yahaba reaches down to pat Kyoutani’s head. The dog looks up, and Yahaba sees his fluffy tail wag. Iwaizumi is calm, sitting still, watching Oikawa closely. Yahaba smiles, “Not too bad, huh?”

Kyoutani’s tail wags twice, and then thumps down, alert as he watches the criminals climb into the cop car.

* * *

 

“Tired?” Yahaba smiles.

“Being a cop is stressful.” Kyoutani gruffs, stumbling into the kitchen.

“Yeah, the graveyard shift is killer.” Yahaba sits in their kitchen nook at the windowsill, a book between his hands. He can’t remember the last time he had _time_ to read. It’s nice.

Kyoutani grumbles and fumbles through the kitchen for coffee. Yahaba laughs a little, and laughs more when Kyoutani glares.

“Hey, if it’s any consolation, you’re a fantastic partner.”

Yahaba watches his back straighten, and his metaphorical ears perk slightly. His face doesn’t change, but Yahaba can see his eyelashes flutter, and his hands wring nervously; it’s so adorable.

“It’s only been a few weeks.”

“Yeah,” Yahaba shrugs, “But you’re so attentive. You’re really good, Kyou.”

The latter busies himself with the coffee, but Yahaba doesn’t miss his little smile.

* * *

 

“Hey, butthead.” Yahaba calls from the laundry room, “I have some friends coming over, I need you to pick up your socks.”

Kyoutani gives a noncommittal grunt, and Yahaba sighs, “I’m serious, dude.”

“Who’s comin’ over?”

“Hanamaki and Matsukawa.”

“Pfff.” Kyoutani bristles, “They’ve seen worse than my dirty socks.”

“ _Exactly_. That’s why we need to make that up to them.” Yahaba feels his face flush. He _definitely_ needs to get his spare key back from Matsukawa.

“Well, the last time we went to _their_ house, we found that box in the bathroom-“

“ _Okay._ ” Yahaba slides into the living room, his socks skidding against the floor, “We _both_ agreed not to talk about that.”

Kyoutani lets out a laugh, short, but mocking, and Yahaba grabs the nearest empty can of soda to fling at his head. Of course, Kyoutani catches it in one hand, all while laughing.

“Socks. Now.” Yahaba snaps, and Kyoutani gives another noncommittal grunt, before sliding off the couch, and slumping to the bedroom.

* * *

 

Kyoutani never picks up his socks; instead it’s Yahaba who gets picked up, and pressed against the wall, even.

They take Matsukawa and Hanamaki out to dinner instead.

* * *

 

As the seasons turn, and summer passes, it grows cool once more. Together they walk, hand in hand, passing display windows. The sun has already begun to descend, the air growing colder. Yahaba squeezes his fingers and Kyoutani squeezes back- a familiar feeling that he loves.

Kyoutani suddenly halts, and turns to a window display; it’s of a fine suit, light, and shimmery.

“Hm?” Yahaba blinks. “Do you like that?”

“For me? No.” He looks to the mannequin posed in the display, “It’d look good on you, though.”

“I don’t need another suit.” Yahaba elbows him with a smile, “I hardly wear them as it is.”

“Mm.” Kyoutani nods, and begins to walk again. “You should.”

“No, _you_ should.” Yahaba smirks, “You look good as hell.”

“I saw you dressed up for that company dinner a few weeks ago.” Kyoutani says in one breath, “I’ve been outmatched.”

Yahaba bristles, and let’s go of Kyoutani’s hand to sneak an arm around his waist, “That dinner was a waste of time.”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Kyoutani shrugs, “But then again, as a dog, they let me just sleep in the corner.”

Yahaba laughs, “Yeah, I was seriously jealous. I had to watch Kuroo spiel on and on about his past busts.”

“I know, I heard.” Kyoutani smirks.

Yahaba doesn’t reply; instead he pokes into his side playfully. It’s true; Kyoutani watched him the entire time, carefully, but didn’t growl once. He was trusting, and silent- truly, they’ve changed already.

“Hey, look.” Yahaba points to a store, “Let’s go in here.”

“Ulta?” Kyoutani raises an eyebrow.

“Heh.” Yahaba grins, “Yeah, come on, I have a theory.”

And at the end of the day, Yahaba’s hypothesis is proven correct; Kyoutani looks good as hell in eyeliner.

* * *

 

“So…” Oikawa leans up against the cop car, eyes scanning the investigation scene. Officers move methodically, per instruction.  “What do you think?”

Sawamura tips his head, “Of what?”

Oikawa gestures with his clipboard, and Sawamura turns to the police dog at Yahaba’s side, running his nose along the ground.

“Oh.” Sawamura smiles, “Our new shifter.”

“They make a good pair, dontcha’ think?”

Sawamura crosses his arms, “Mmm, they’ve been doing good.”

“I thought so.” Oikawa watches, and feels Iwaizumi’s tail thump against his bad knee.

“To be honest, I was a little worried.” Sawamura sighs, “Dog and officer relationships require so much trust. You’d know, after all.”

Oikawa grins, “That I do.”

“It seems I had nothing to worry about, though.” Sawamura smiles as well, “I’m just glad that more shifters are getting better jobs suited to their abilities. Hopefully, soon, we won’t have to hide our identities anymore,” He looks down to Iwaizumi, “yeah?”

Iwaizumi gives a little nod, his tail thumping against Oikawa’s knee once more.

“Well, I heard through the grapevine that you’ve been pushing the higher ups to hire some crows.” Oikawa smirks, “Advocating for your own kind, are ya’?”

“Pushing?” Sawamura looks up to the air with a smile, “How about, _already pushed?_ ”

Oikawa blinks, and looks up to the sky. There, circle a few black birds, high up in the clouds. Their sharp eyes scan the crime scene, fanning out to scour the area.

“No way.” Oikawa laughs, “You got them to say _yes_?”

“Cheaper than a search helicopter.” Sawamura smirks.

“No fuckin’ way.” He repeats again, “You’re something else, Sawamura.”

They’re interrupted when Kyoutani gives a little bark. Yahaba kneels down, searching the bushes behind the house. More police officer’s flock; a woman joins Yahaba in searching, pulling through unkempt brush. She pulls out a white bag- exactly what they were looking for.

“Well, wouldja’ look at that.” Oikawa smirks, “Kyou found it.”

Officers handle the evidence carefully, logging it in, and walking towards their superiors.

“Sir.” Kindaichi holds up the bag, “We got it.”

“Great.” Oikawa nods, and takes a step forwards, whistling, “Wow. Half a pound of LSD. How much is this worth, you think?”

“A fuckton.” Kindaichi says without hesitation. “These idiots just tossed it as soon as they heard the sirens.”

“Good for us, then.” Sawamura nods, “Take it to the scene detective.”

“Yes sir.” Kindaichi nods, and turns on his heel.

Oikawa leans down to pat Iwaizumi’s head, “Look at that. You didn’t even have to work today.”

Iwaizumi gives a little huff, but is otherwise silent. 

He’s surprised when Sawamura lifts his hand to his ear and presses into an earpiece, “Alright, we found it. You guys can come in- but I want two of you to span out and see if you can find where they ran off to.”

Oikawa blinks, plainly, and turns his eyes up to the sky. There, two birds fly off together, as the rest circle down onto a neighboring house. He watches feathers shift as they land, bodies forming into soft, human ones. He catches blonde hair and glasses- as well as a small redhead- before they disappear behind a chimney, presumably to find their stash of clothing. 

“Huh.” Oikawa smirks, “Things just got a little more interesting.”

“Tell no one.”

“Mum’s the word.”

* * *

 

“Mhmm.” Yahaba lays on his stomach, his phone pressed to his ear. “Yeah, I know. Mhmm.”

Kyoutani lays atop him, and uses his ass as a pillow, his cheek turned to watch the T.V., turned low.

“Yeah. I know.” Yahaba repeats, “I’ll talk to him. Yeah. Yeah. _I know.”_

He bites his lip when he feels Kyoutani nuzzle into the cleft of his ass, despite being covered through thick jeans. He looks over to shoot him a glare, but Kyoutani isn’t paying attention. He hums through his phone, “Mhm. Mmm. Really? Alright then. Okay. I will, goodnight. Love you too. Bye.”

He pulls back his phone, and ends the call.

“Who’zat?” Kyoutani mumbles, wiggling up to rest his cheek against Yahaba’s shoulder blades. The weight pushes him down against the sheets, and Yahaba grunts. 

“Mom.”

“What’d she say?”

“She wants us to come down for the holidays.”

“Oh.” Kyoutani presses his nose into the back of Yahaba’s neck, “Mkay.”

“You’re cool with that?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a beat of silence. Yahaba wiggles underneath him- the latter gets the hint, and raises himself up a little, as to let Yahaba roll onto his back. Kyoutani rests his weight back down, and squirms to breathe in Yahaba’s neck once more.

Yahaba hums, and rests a hand in Kyoutani’s hair, “Thank you.”

“Fer what?”

“Agreeing to come visit my family for the holidays. They can be a handful.”

“S’ fine.”

There’s another pause, and Yahaba feels his heartbeat pick up. He’s been waiting to ask- waiting for the right time- waiting to know-

“Kyoutani, why did you leave your family?”

Silence.

Kyoutani doesn’t move- Yahaba can’t feel his breath against his neck- instead he feels the way his heartbeat rises. The room suddenly feels too small, and too big- stuffy, and too airy-

“I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No.” Kyoutani leans up onto his knees, and rolls over to sit next to Yahaba. “If you want to know, I’ll tell you.”

“It’s just…” Yahaba squirms to look him in the eye, “I asked Iwaizumi, and he said that dog shifters are loyal to their family…and…” _I’m worried._

“I wasn’t born to shifters.” Kyoutani blurts, his eyes glued on the ceiling. “I was raised outside this city, on a small farm.”

“Oh.” Yahaba whispers, and squirms more into a sitting position.

“Mm.” Kyoutani looks away, “They hated me.”

Yahaba waits to see if he’ll say anything else; he does.

“They didn’t understand what I was, or why I was born like this. They just kinda’, I dunno’, ignored me most of the time.”

“So…” Yahaba blinks, “As soon as you could, you left?”

“Mhmm.”

“Were they…did they…” Yahaba bites his cheek, “Did you…”

“They were abusive, I guess.”

Oh.

“ _Kyou_ , I-“

“Stop.” Kyoutani lifts up a hand, “I’m over it.”

“Sorry.” Yahaba still says, “You didn’t deserve to go through that.”

“Well, no one _deserves_ it.” Kyoutani shrugs, “Just made me who I am, I guess.”

Yahaba doesn’t know what to say- his throat hurts, as he chokes out, “Still-“

“I traveled a lot, as you know.” Kyoutani shifts against the headboard, finally turning to look him in the eye, “I didn’t know what I wanted. A home, I guess. I wasn’t even sure…I did a lot of bad shit.”

Yahaba finds himself letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Kyoutani stares him down.  

“You’d arrest me, if you knew.”

“I wouldn’t-“

“You’d have to.” Kyoutani looks away, “I’d be fired.”

“But that’s not who you are now.” Yahaba says suddenly, with confidence. “You’re different. You’ve changed.”

Kyoutani shrugs, “Because of you.”

And dammit, that hits really, really hard. Yahaba fucking _hates_ crying- god he hates it so much, but he still has to bite down on his cheek and blink away the sting. Kyoutani looks up at him; he reaches across the short distance, and presses a kiss underneath Yahaba’s right eye, “Don’t cry, idiot.”

“M’ not.” Yahaba grits.

“I can smell it.”

“ _Shut up._ ”

First Kyoutani smiles, then he grins, then he laughs- his face transitions so beautifully; Yahaba’s heart can barely keep a beat.

Kyoutani rubs his nose against Yahaba's cheek, “You’re right, though. That’s all in the past.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re welcome.” Kyoutani lies back down onto the cool bedding, “S' only fair. Your mom’s definitely gonna' show me all your baby pictures at Christmas.”

“ _Kentarou-_ “

* * *

                     

Work is going well; it’s true, that Yahaba and Kyoutani are a perfect pair. They trust completely in each other- Kyoutani listens to every word from Yahaba, and Yahaba reacts to every motion from Kyoutani.

Watari loves to drive, Kyoutani’s head out the back window, Yahaba searching through the police scanner. They go out for donuts, and I mean, it’s not really helping the stereotype any, but they do it anyways- there’s many days in the office, Kyoutani curled up at his feet, and many days out in the field, sniffing through homes and schools.

Things go well- but things also get _scary._

There’s an unexpected shooting at a convenience store, and Yahaba’s car is the only one in the area.

When they show up, Kyoutani barking and snarling, guns pulled out of their belts- the criminals open fire. Backup is on its way- of course, at Watari’s call- but Yahaba still gets grazed by a bullet, right past his shoulder at the edge of his bulletproof vest.

When he falls to his knees, cowering behind the cop car, a hand pressed to his bleeding shoulder, he grits out, _Kyoutani stay-_ and he sees Kyoutani’s eyes- he sees them so full of spitfire and hate, but he stays, just like he’s told.

“ _Yahaba!_ ” Watari yells.

“I’m good!” He shouts back, shots still ringing in his ears.

It’s Kuroo’s squad that answers the call first, Kuroo’s authority and word becoming law as he enters the scene.  He shouts, his gun raised, “Shigeru, fall back!”

So he does, Kyoutani at his side, shuffling him back behind the defensive line of the police cars.

Kuroo’s squad brings them down without casualty, the fire coming to an end as Yahaba is pushed into an ambulance.

Yahaba’s shoulder heals fine, thanks to the work of some stitches, and Kyoutani’s consistent care.

Still, there’s one night where Kyoutani stirs at his side, despite the hour.

There’s a question, low, and deep in the silence of their bedroom.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Yahaba answers, “Are you?”

There’s no answer.

“Can’t sleep?”

“That scared the shit out of me.” Kyoutani whispers, “I thought you got shot.”

It’s Yahaba that sighs, pressing his body impossibly close, “You know, even if I do, you have to react responsibly.”

“I know.”

“I love you.” Yahaba says, shifting his weight off his healing shoulder.

“Go back to sleep.” Kyoutani mumbles into his hair, soft, and quiet, “I love you too.”

* * *

 

“Stop!” Yahaba laughs, a paintbrush in hand, “I’m so serious!”

“Stop what?” Kyoutani grins, and pulls back his paintbrush, flicking paint in Yahaba’s direction.

On one particular Saturday, Yahaba had woken up with the impulsive _need_ to repaint the kitchen; so they stand here, in baggy overalls, barefoot atop a tarp, painting the kitchen walls a nice pastel blue.

Yahaba gasps, “Kentarou!” He dips his fingers into the paint can, and flicks them forwards, paint spritzing across Kyoutani’s face, “You’re supposed to be helping me!”

“I am.” Kyoutani grins, and flicks more paint. It falls across Yahaba’s hair, and his old t-shirt.

_This little shithead! -_

Yahaba lets out a dramatic gasp. He’s silent, for one singular moment, before he jabs his brush forwards, drawing a long line across Kyoutani’s cheek.

His face goes blank, before it turns evil, a smirk creeping across his face.

“No…” Yahaba backs up, holding his paintbrush like a sword, “No…no…”

Kyoutani grabs the bucket of paint in one swoop, and dumps it over Yahaba’s head.

Later, after Yahaba finished _screaming,_ it’s Kyoutani that’s forced to scrub Yahaba down from head to toe, until all the blue is gone.

* * *

 

The living room is calm, and cool from the cold air. The new year comes and goes, the clock continuing its endless ticking. Occasionally the T.V. lights flicker, illuminating the room brighter, then softer. The kitchen faintly glows behind them, clean, and pretty, blue walls and all.

The T.V. plays low; if Yahaba focuses enough, he can hear the words on screen.

_“Alors pourquoi tu pleures?”_

_"Je ne pleure pas."_

There’s a sharp inhale at his ear, and Yahaba turns his attention elsewhere. Their clothes are long gone; they’ve become one with the floor, destined to be tripped over later.

But now, here, Yahaba straddles Kyoutani, his hands pressing into the muscles of Kyoutani’s stomach, pushing just to feel the strength there. They’re both hard, and flushed, but rock together slowly as Kyoutani pats around for lube.

“Mmm.” Yahaba breathes in, and presses a kiss to the corner of Kyoutani’s mouth, “You smell good.”

“Thanks.” Kyoutani tips his head by a millimeter, and their lips meet, “You _always_ smell good.”

Yahaba hums, and kisses him long and slow. Their lips slot together, a little wet, but perfect nonetheless. There’s a tongue that prods at his lips, and Yahaba welcomes it home.

It traces his mouth - it travels to all the places it’s been before, forcing a soft sliver of spit to drool past Yahaba’s lips. Kyoutani dips down to lick it clean, before kissing Yahaba again, his breath heavy through his nose.

Yahaba gives a little choked noise, and softly grinds against Kyoutani just to relieve the pressure between his legs.

Yahaba mumbles, “What do I smell like?”

A cap pops, and Kyoutani coats his fingers, “Hm?”

“It must be halfway decent.” Yahaba sits up a little on his knees, and welcomes the wet fingers that prod around his ass, “Seeing as- hnn-“ he bites down, “-you’re always sticking your face in my ne-eeeck-“ Yahaba’s words trail off as Kyoutani’s middle finger presses all the way in.

“Mmm.” Kyoutani dips his nose forwards, and presses right up against Yahaba’s cheek for good measure, “You smell like you.”

Yahaba huffs, wiggling his hips, “Well that doesn’t help me aaanyy-“ his head lolls, and his body arches as another finger is pressed in a little too fast, “hha- Kentarou-“

“Sorry.” He slows down, drawing his fingers out, and back in- and _fuck_ it feels awesome. Yahaba bites down a noise, and moves his hips in tandem with Kyoutani’s makeshift rhythm. Kyoutani moves his nose down to Yahaba’s neck, and presses a kiss, wet, and soft, “Right here.”

“Right…what…?” Yahaba pants.

“This is where people smell the strongest.” He nips at the skin, and scissors his fingers, “You smell like…cotton.”

Yahaba chokes on a laugh, “What does that mean?”

“No, like,” He brings his mouth up to press underneath Yahaba’s ear, “have you ever laid out a pair of fresh sheets?”

“Yeah?”

“You know what they smell like?”

“Y-yeah.”

Kyoutani kisses the shell of his ear, “That’s you.” His fingers make slick sounds, accompanying the low talking of the movie. Kyoutani’s voice is so nice; it’s low, and steady, and Yahaba could listen to it forever. It’s right there, in his ear, making him both sleepy and turned on beyond belief. Kyoutani mumbles, “Also, salt. And shampoo. It’s addicting.” _You’re addicting._

“Hnnn-“ Yahaba pants, his head lolling once more, hips swirling beyond his control, “I wish I had the-hhn- superhuman nose to tell you what you smell like.”

“I’m pretty sure I already know.” Kyoutani teases, and adds a third finger.

“ _Fuck._ ” Yahaba spits, but welcomes it perfectly. Electricity sparks across his arms, and down his thighs, and he knows _exactly_ what Kyoutani has found. “Shit-“

“Good?”

“Yeah.” Yahaba breathes, “Lemmie’ ride you.” He looks down to Kyoutani’s lap for emphasis- his cock long forgotten, hard against Yahaba’s navel.

“One second.” He mumbles, and spreads his fingers just to make the stretch more comfortable. Yahaba’s back arches, and he squirms like an incubus, his hips moving down to greedily take what he can get.

“ _Kyou.”_

The fingers scissor twice, and then leave with the laughable squelch of lube. Still, Yahaba’s brain cells are having a hard time keeping up here, his dick squished against Kyoutani’s, trembling already. Kyoutani prods him up a little higher, and Yahaba happily accommodates- they move quick, and swift, and practiced- through patience, soon Yahaba is seated comfortably.

“ _God.”_ Yahaba’s head falls back, his fingernails digging past Kyoutani’s hair. “ _Goooooood.”_

Kyoutani gives what Yahaba can only assume is a half laugh, before he rolls hips upwards. Yahaba groans; he moves his head down to suck Kyoutani’s lower lip against his own, before he sits up, and falls back down.

And seriously, there’s some awesome things in this world. Chocolate? Yes. Long showers? Double yes. Large tax returns? _Triple_ yes.

But Kyoutani’s low, rumbly moans one _hundred_ percent take the cake.

It just spurs Yahaba on; it gives him the motivation to build a rhythm- to swivel his hips and bounce up and down on his cock like he was made to.

He tries, desperately, to look cool and collected, but Yahaba knows that this is _Kyoutani;_ the one that’s seen him naked more times than he can count- the one who saw him trip walking _up_ the stairs- the one who eats an apple every morning, and the one who always sloshes around in the bath until his fingers are pruney, like the little old man Yahaba hopes to see him become one day.

So, when Kyoutani’s cock slides _just right,_ Yahaba doesn’t bother hiding any more moans. He grips Kyoutani’s shoulders, and gasps against his mouth, loud, and lewd, and drinks in every reaction he has the _honor_ of feeling from Kyoutani.

Large, bruising hands dig into his hips- they pull up, and then slam him back down, and Yahaba groans.

“ _Kyou-“_

The latter huffs, his eyes opening to look at Yahaba- and fuck, _fuck._ They’re so piercing, his pupils dilated down to a needle, the irises swirling with shimmery gold emotion. Yahaba doesn’t realize that he’s gaping until Kyoutani laughs, low and attractive, hands pushing and pulling.

Yahaba rocks his hips in response, and relishes in the white-hot desire that bleeds down his chest, across his navel, and between his legs.

“ _Yahaba._ ” He mumbles against Yahaba’s mouth, lips slipping down across his cheek with every thrust and bounce, “ _Yahaba.”_

“ _Hhah-“_

_“Yahaba-“_

He subconsciously lolls his head to the side at the call of his name, welcoming Kyoutani to nip where his neck meets his naked shoulder. Their skin is wet, and slick, but there’s something so _intimate_ about it all.

It’s not rushed, or hurried- they’re not fucking out of blind passion or raw emotion.

Instead, they’re slow, and steady; they moan out of love, and gasp out of pure, sickly adoration.

It’s a lovely change of pace- Yahaba just feels so at home- so _perfect,_ here in the dark light of their livingroom. He’s full, and warm and everything that makes sex with Kyotuani amazing.

There's a sharp sting, and Yahaba lets out a gasp; teeth bite into the flesh of his shoulder- right next to the scar from that bullet that kissed his skin.

“You’re beautiful.” Kyoutani states, like a fact. It rings heavy in the air, and Yahaba can barely pant out a response. Instead he just lets out a little moan, and squeezes around Kyoutani for good measure. In turn, Yahaba gets the pleasure of watching Kyoutani’s back straighten like a board, and his stomach muscles pull tight.

Hips roll up, and a tongue licks out; Yahaba’s gasps are turning more hurried- more choked. He can feel Kyoutani’s hands growing rougher, and stronger- he can feel his _own_ thighs trembling.

The mouth moves to that scar- to the bullet wound. It kisses once, twice, then it licks down to his collarbone, and back up the length of his neck, across small hickeys and little beauty marks. Yahaba does his best to keep pace- but he’s no longer bouncing, rather, he’s just swirling his hips in little figure eights.

“Shit.” Yahaba gasps, his cock sliding between their bellies, “Shit-“

He’s _so_ damn hard, he thinks he might pop- seriously.

“I…” Kyoutani trails off, one hand reaching between their bodies, “Together.”

“Hhhghh, okay-“ Yahaba bites, “-then stop me, stop me-“

Kyoutani reaches around the length of Yahaba and squeezes hard at his base. The feeling of his orgasm being _ripped_ back makes Yahaba choke, and loll his head to rest against Kyoutani’s shoulder, “Motherfucker.”

Kyoutani, at that moment, decides to take charge, gripping Yahaba and thrusting up as hard and as far as he can.

It doesn’t last long; the wet noises and the gasps- because soon Kyoutani lets out this sweet little growl, and his already slick hand pumps twice, and suddenly they _are_ crying out together, Yahaba letting out a sob as his body convulses, and rolls against the hips meeting his own. His mouth spills out garbage- all syllables and no sentences, pure, utter nonsense.

Kyoutani’s head falls back, eyes squeezing shut, his left thumb pressing into the valley of Yahaba’s hip as Yahaba slowly rides him through it.

Their breaths are hot, and loud, overbearing the noise from the T.V. Yahaba is still shaking, barely, and he can feel Kyoutani sucking in air. Slowly the room begins to cool, the heat sizzling away.

The grip on his hip lessens, as does the hand around his cock- Yahaba can’t be too sure though; he’s phased out, the world blurry and gone. He realizes, faintly, through the fog that Kyoutani is drawing gentle circles on his hips, waiting patiently for Yahaba’s mind to click on again.

He comes back finally when he realizes that they forgot a condom.

“My ass is wet.” Yahaba says, plainly, and Kyoutani barks out a laugh.

“Sorry.”

Yahaba isn’t too sure if he’s complaining, though. He feels Kyoutani slide out of him, and slick slide down his thighs.

Yahaba looks down, and then back up, flirting, “I’m a mess.”

“Mmm good.”

“You better clean me up.”

“I will.” Kyoutani answers, his voice thick and heavy. He mouths against Yahaba’s cheek, and sticks his hand between Yahaba’s legs just to feel for himself.

“H-hey!”

“Sorry.” The shifter grins, “Let’s go bathe.”

“Hmm.” Yahaba smirks, pressing one last kiss to his nose, “Carry me.”

When he does, Yahaba may or may not have mumbled _good dog._

* * *

 

 “Great job today!” Watari grins, kneeling to unbuckle Kyoutani’s police vest, “That was a total success, dude.” 

Kyoutani gives a little noise- a growl, almost, as if to say _whatever._

Yahaba sits on the bench, unloading all of his own gear, smiling as Watari scratches at the base of Kyoutani’s neck, where the vest has been rubbing.

Kyoutani tries- oh he _tries-_ to not wag his tail, but it thumps against the linoleum floor without his permission.

Yahaba can’t help but laugh, sliding over to give Kyoutani a pat on the head. He did good today- he saved a mother and daughter, after all, running towards the kidnappers, and taking a good chunk out of their leg.

It’s rough work; it’s _hard_ work; it’s depressing work; but Yahaba saw the way the mother fell to her knees, whispering, _thank you, thank you-_

And Kyoutani had paraded around, that big dog, with the strange stripes and the wolf eyes- wagging his tail, and licking the daughter's hand, where bruises formed around her wrists.

Watari laughs as Kyoutani gives a little bark, there in the safety of the police station, and Yahaba laughs too.  

* * *

 

 “You smell like dog.”

Kuroo complains, dark eyes and all, his beer almost falling over the rim of his cup.

“Well, I sure hope so.” Yahaba replies, his tongue smooth from the alcohol, “I’m fucking a dog shifter, anyways.”

The table erupts into screaming and laughter- Yamamoto is the one to thump the table loud with his hand, nearly toppling over his drink.

“Goddamn.” Kuroo laughs, “So you spillin’ the secret then?”

“That Kyou is a shifter?” Yahaba shrugs, “I’m pretty sure everybody knows anyways.”

“Eh, you’re right.”

“There’s more an’ more of ‘em poppin’ up anyways.” Yamamoto shrugs.

“What, shifters?”

“Mhmm.” Kuroo nods, “Sawamura brought in a whole damn team.”

“I heard about a snake shifter joining the force the other day.”

“No way! A snake?!” Lev laughs.

“Yeah.” Yaku eyes Kuroo with a smirk, “Kuroo would know.”

“Ugh.” Kuroo downs the rest of his beer, “Grew up with the bastard.”

 “What the hell is a snake gonna’ do?” Yamamoto laughs, “We can’t keep ‘em on a leash, or throw ‘em up in the air and say _fly.”_

“Hey, don’t underestimate a snake shifter.” Yaku points, “They’re sly, and evil.”

“Amen.” Kuroo raises his drink.

Yahaba laughs, his shoulder bumping against Watari, who’s already had his fair share of alcohol. He’s passed out, head against the booth, as the other police officers talk and laugh. Yahaba keeps his phone in view, waiting for any text from Kyoutani.

He expects some kind of _come home now-_ or _where are you-_ text.

But, in the year and a half they’ve been together, the trust has grown stronger, just as Oikawa said it would.

Kyoutani growls less; he doesn’t snap too much at strangers, and he doesn’t blow a gasket when Yahaba comes home smelling like another shifter- but Yahaba is also careful, out of respect for Kyoutani.

All their rough edges are slowly, slowly rounding out, their cogs fitting together better than before. Their fights work out in the end- their arguments have a resolution. It seems that they are, finally, trusting each other in full.

It’s wonderful.

So Yahaba enjoys the rest of his night, hitches a ride in a taxi, and comes home to a warm bed and strong arms.

* * *

 

“So I was thinking…” Yahaba shifts in the bathtub, water falling over the edge.

“Uh oh.” Kyoutani mumbles. His arms squeeze Yahaba’s waist, drawing him closer between his legs, “What about?”

“You know, since you moved in…” Yahaba tips his head back to try and meet Kyoutani’s eyes, his fingers thumbing over the bump of Kyoutani’s right knee, as it peeks out of the water, “…since you moved in, and began helping with rent, we’ve been able to save a lot of money.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” Yahaba squirms, “We don’t really spend on anything that frivolous; we’re not heavy spenders, or anything.”

“Thas’ true.”

“Yeah, so I was thinking, maybe-” Yahaba rolls over, more water falling over the edge. Their chests press together, and bubbles pop around in the air, “-we could go on a vacation.”

Kyoutani’s thin eyebrows shoot up, his eyes widening a fraction, “A vacation?”

“Yeah.”

“Where to?”

“I dunno’.” Yahaba shrugs, “You’re the one who’s been all over the place. I was thinking maybe we could decide together.”

“Huh.” Kyoutani’s hands press into his lower back, down beneath the water, “A vacation.”

“Is that alright with you?”

Kyoutani appears to swish around the thought for a moment, before his eyes shine over, “Yeah. Sounds fun.”

Yahaba grins, wiggling up to press one long kiss against the corner of his mouth.

* * *

 

It’s moments like these where everything falls into perspective.

They sit, here, at the park; except, instead of a dog, there’s a man at his side.

A strong man. A tall man. A powerful man. A man, who, despite his power, is still a man.

A ruthless man. A possessive man. A kind man. A loving man.

Yahaba’s man.

His head lolls against Yahaba’s shoulder, his fingers tangled with Yahaba’s.

With the years, things have changed. Squads have moved around; they’ve changed houses, saying goodbye to that light blue kitchen. They’ve traveled to far off places that Yahaba had never dreamed of visiting. They’ve done it all together, through and through.

Despite all the changes, those strong hands have remained a constant in Yahaba’s life.

They’ve always been there to hold his own- to prod him into the bath when he’s sick- to carry him when he’s weak- to hold his face when he cries- to wrap around his shoulders and hold his hips and to scrub the kitchen floors and make coffee and those hands, _those hands-_

Beautifully strong, always there, connected to Kyoutani.

The birds sing loud here, above their tree. _Their_ tree, they’ve decided, long ago. The tree that Yahaba first sat under when he brought Kyoutani here as a dog, still weak from his fight with those moral-less kids.

Yahaba shifts closer, and feels his badge dig a little into Kyoutani’s hipbone - so he reaches between them, and flicks it off, watching it tumble to the grass. He presses close, hands close, shoulders close - wonderfully, close. The air is so clean and pure, and it washes every worry from Yahaba’s skin.

There’s a nose at his throat- that, it seems, is also a constant in his life. It presses soft, and warm, before turning away.

Oh, how Yahaba loves him. He loves his rough corners, and his small vocabulary, and his permanent scowl and his desire to be close, dipped in his neck. He adores him, even on the bad days, he adores him.

Yahaba is ripped out of his thoughts by a low, familiar voice humming against his cheek.

“Do you think…” Kyoutani begins, slow, and steady, “…you’d ever want to get married?”

“Yeah.” Yahaba answers, without hesitation.  

And that, is how Yahaba married the love of his life.

His police dog.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow all done! 
> 
> i just wanted to take a moment to say thanks for all the support! all ya'll seriously made this happen, so thank you
> 
> also a special thank you to all my beta readers <3 tysm!

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on [tumblr](http://zanimez.tumblr.com/)


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